History Reheating
by firsttimefan
Summary: Castle is LA collaborating with the Naked Heat team and Natalie Rhodes is booking on a performance no one - Castle included- will ever forget. Until he drops off the radar. Sequel to Roving Heat (but can be read without it).
1. Chapter 1

**Standard Disclaimer.**

**Sorry for those who read the spolier and had to wait...started back at uni for a second degree and it has SO much reading...**

**Anyway, this is a sequel for ****_Roving Heat, _****but is set in current season five and is NOT AU. I'm assuming they both put in the hard yards after when I set ****_Roving Heat_**** in season three.**

**Enjoy.**

**FIXED THE TIME ZONE ISSUE (sorry) m(_ _)m**

Kate looked at the mocha and cream comforter and the pearl sheets slightly bemused. All she had to do was straighten out them- her slept in side and the wrinkles on his side where she had reached for him in the night.

Despite the knowledge somewhere in her still sleep-hung over-brain that a day off meant changing the sheets, she hadn't even tried to make the bed when she emerged from them after 9 that morning. It had become an unconscious routine; had for almost a year because they saw a lot of usage when she could sleep in the next morning.

But Castle hadn't been in them the night before, or any night this week and there was no reason she couldn't just tug them back into place.

Now, almost mid-morning, she pressed at her nose with the back of her wrist, trying to get to the itch before she had to sneeze. Dust did that to her. Dusting: Done. Washing: Hung out. Shopping: Sufficiently stocked. Bed: Empty of Castle. Couch and office: also empty of Castle.

The last one made the biggest difference to her day off. It wasn't painful, just unusual enough to make her blink. They wouldn't be going out today to a museum or a movie or for a walk. They wouldn't be spending the day in either. Today was a day off just for herself.

It was nice enough out that she might try for ten miles today. Drag her Dad away from his case for dinner. Lunch would be better- Lanie might be up for drinks tonight. She could use a girl's night.

Or she could stop trying to fill up the rest of her day, she chided herself when she felt her butt vibrating. She inhaled on a sniff, looking up at the ceiling to control her dust reaction long enough to have a phone conversation without sounding like she had a head cold.

She dug it out and held it up. Unknown caller. Huh.

"Beckett."

"Katherine Beckett?"

"Speaking." Still looking up she wondered if maybe she should get the feather duster out and do the corners too. Especially in her room so that she and Castle weren't staring up at cobwebs.

"This is the Los Angeles Police Department."

She was used to getting bad news, had trained her brain to move on to the next solution when something didn't go her way with a case, but her normally agile mind froze, still paused over a mental image of Castle's arms around her, splayed out on their backs, sucking down air. But while her brain balked at the thought of processing the implications of that statement, her body began a quiet rebellion leaving her mind scrambling to mount a defence. She blinked eyes trying to clear the fog and focus just so she had the concentration to force her stomach steady and her throat to open. She needed air and she needed to talk; she needed to know what the hell the LAPD wanted.

"Yes," she croaked.

She sounded like an idiot.

"We're calling with regards to Richard Castle; you're listed as his emergency contact."

"That's right," it was too faint. Had he even heard her? Oh, God, what was going on? "What happened?"

God, what happened? Please tell me he just got really drunk at a launch party somewhere and just needs me to post bail. Just be okay.

"Ma'am,"

"Detective," she inserted firmly. If she was going to get bad news she was not about to be fobbed off as just another Ma'am.

"I'm sorry?"

"Detective Katherine Beckett, NYPD," the title helped clear the panic enough to concentrate. "Now tell me what the hell is going on."

"Understood, Detective. At 9.05 last night a Missing Persons report was filed with our department for a Richard E. Castle. It is our policy to wait 24 hours before processing a MP and notifying and contacts, but they were quite insistent that I contact you."

Missing? She sucked in a breath and looked at her watch reflexively. Just after 11. He had been missing since 9 LA time…12NY time... 11 hours.

Wait. 9pm LA… 12 midnight NY.

Castle. She bit off a groan.

"Ma'am?"

"He's not missing," Kate sighed, relief kicking the crap out of her system, restoring oxygen, tricking out her heart rate.

"Excuse me?"

"He's not missing," Kate repeated, revelling in the loosening of her chest and enjoying her first free breath in over a minute. Her diaphragm ached and she pressed the heel of her palm to her sternum, trying to soothe the throbbing. Man, Castle was bad for her health. "He called me last night and he was fine."

"What time was this?"

"We were on the phone until after 1am NY time." 10pm LA time.

"Detective, are you sure?"

"Positive. Who filed the report?"

"It was filed by…a Paula Haas. She said she was his agent."

Why would he run away from Paula? Why would he go underground at all? Did he say something she was supposed to have picked up? What had he talked about last night…he spent the morning with the script writers for Naked Heat, was on set for the afternoon. They had been filming the scene with the Texan and the black pillow case interrogation. Natalie had asked him to demonstrate how he would have gotten himself out of the situation…had offered to tape him to the chair. Then she invited him to the event she was hosting for one of her charities.

Oh. That would do it.

"Are you the officer who took the report?" she asked, resigned.

"Yes Ma'am. Detective."

"Was there another woman with Ms Haas when she filed this report? Maybe a blonde? Tall and looks a lot like -"

"Natalie Rhodes?" the man interjected.

Figures.

"She was there?"

"Yeah," the officer on the other end let out his reply on an amazed breath but caught himself and cleared his throat. "She was quite distressed."

"I'll bet she was," Kate muttered sourly.

"Detective?"

"He's not missing. He's just…gone underground."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"You don't have to, just dismiss the case. He's not missing."

"I'm going to need some evidence to officially drop the case. He hasn't been back to his hotel and we have no credit card usage since before he…_went underground_. May I have your permission to review a copy of the call you received from Mr Castle last night?"

She felt her face flame.

"No!"

Her gut clenched just thinking about what he had made her do over the speaker last night, what she had said to him. God she had missed him so much.

"It was a personal conversation. When he contacts me next, I'll get him to call you if you leave me a contact number."

…

She entered her credit card details and hit process. She reached back in her office chair and turned on her printer.

"Sir, a family emergency has come up…"

Her receipt page loaded and she fired it off. Great, she had half an hour to pack and be out the door. Maybe she should call for a taxi now.

"It doesn't sound like I have much of a choice,"

"No, Sir," Kate admitted. You don't.

…

She knew it was a bad idea. Half the population of the world over a certain age knew it was a bad idea, but she had been on a tight deadline and faced with the knowledge she was going into battle with the upper echelons of Hollywood, Los Angeles with only one small duffel bag, she wasn't going to leave them behind.

Damn Natalie for being right, but she needed the height, she needed the boost.

Just not when she sat in Coach. Every woman knows not to try and navigate airports and planes in high heels, and combating the feeling her knees were just under her ears, she had to admit they were so right.

She shifted her knees a couple of inches to the side, scraping her skin with the friction of her pants flat up against the back of the seat in front of her. With her heels she was way too tall for there to be enough leg space. Her small shift – admittedly about the second one in the last quarter of an hour- prompting the teenage girl in the seat to turn and look at her suspiciously.

The blonde glared and seconds after she turned back, the seat reclined as far as it would go, driving Beckett's knees into the ground and pinning them there. She bit back a pained exclamation and tried to kick off her heels so the seat wasn't lying in her lap. Pressed against the window she used the modicum of extra space on her side to slip off one but in losing the second, knocked her knee sharply into the man next to her.

The older gentleman next to her snorted wetly, breaking the rhythm of his snoring. On his other side a gangly leg encased in black skinny jeans and sketchers twitched in annoyance. She couldn't say whether his face was as transparent as his body language because she couldn't see most of it for curtains of hair, piercings and a drooping, anaemic looking beanie.

She didn't care if she would berate herself for it later; she was taking First Class on the way back.

"All passengers please return your seats to the upright positions and make sure your seatbelt is securely fastened. We ask that you remain seated until the plane has completed its taxi at which point you are free to use any electronic devices."

Kate tuned the pre-landing message out, shifting in her seat to restore circulation and favoured the Flight attendant with a smile when she leaned over to wake The Snore-o-matic. Kate got a flash of light on eyes through the curtain of dyed black hair when the younger of her fellow passengers drew out of his slump long enough to appreciate the Flight attendant's proximity when she leaned across to rouse the older man between them.

Typical teenage male. He hadn't learnt any subtlety.

The guy started awake so suddenly with such a look of bemused remorse, it was almost cute. He mumbled his thanks to the hostess who smiled and moved up a row of seats to tell the teen to pull her seat back up and off Beckett's lap. Beside her the man discretely pulled his cuff to his mouth, just where his beard starts under the guise of masking a yawn, but she knew he was doing the drool check. If there is any, she can't see it for the salt and pepper hair on his chin.

Wonder what Castle would look like with a beard.

She squinted at him, trying to superimpose Castle's features like a grid overlay, picturing a lighter, sandy coloured shade. Her mind recalled Officer Hastings' writer/partner and she shot for that shade. A little less full perhaps and a little bit of grey – just one or two hairs to tease him about until she caught up. Wow, he was 40 now. He's entitled to a few greys.

"Is there something on my face?"

She blinked and with a flush realised she had gone off on her tangent still staring at her fellow passenger. He was blushing as well.

"No, no. You just…look like someone I know."

That was embarrassingly unbelievable. You think that spending all your time with a best-selling writer, you could come up with a less cringe-worthy story. The old 'uns aren't always the best ones.

They spend the next fifteen minutes until the seatbelt sign releases avoiding each other; him with the inflight magazine he never got the chance to read and her staring out over LA going over her limited game plan.

Find Castle.

While the plane bellied its way towards the terminal missing a little rubber she took her phone off flight mode, watching it refresh with her nail dangerously close to her mouth. She caught sight of it out the corner of her eye and ripped her hand away from her face in disgust; she was not looking to develop a new nervous tic.

No new messages. One missed call from an unknown number with a LA area code. Maybe it was the police department getting back to her. They better not have subpoenaed that call recording…Oh God, why did she have to tell them she was a detective? Why couldn't she just let them think she was a professor or an editor? No one in the LAPD would care that Richard Castle had very vocal phone sex with a Wall Streeter.

If anyone pulled that recording she was going to kill him.

She swiped her thumb and brought up her contacts and let it linger over his name but got a too sweet smile and narrowed eyes from the attendant so slipped it back into her bag.

She had already left a message and he hadn't replied. Even if she did call him, his phone wouldn't be on. He was off grid.

Not missing she told herself again. He would not have called and had such a normal conversation with her if he was being held hostage somewhere. Wouldn't have said how he wished the actors could all see how she and the boys worked so they would look more authentic. How the stunt double fell on her face trying to get out of the chair when he wrote it was Rook who did that.

He wouldn't have told her about the way the actor for Jameson Rook had been following him all day, even into the toilet. Had mimicked the way he held himself.

If he was really missing right now and in danger he wouldn't have let that spiral into the things they said or the things they had done…Her throat went dry, her cheeks hot. She tried to swallow it down but it only lead to graphic images he had burned into her brain with whispered words and she tried not to squirm in her seat.

He was not missing. He was hiding.

**?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Standard Disclaimer. **

**Thanks so much for all the reviews and alerts!**

**It might get bumpy for these two at the start, but overall this is mostly fun...I think they deserve it.**

**Oh, and the motel name is real...but the description isn't...I just googled for the name. No offense intended. **

…

He scrubbed until his scalp burned, sensitive and tender under his nails but he convinced himself that was just the temperature of the water. His skin was a painful pink he wished was from spending too much time on the beach – but wasn't- and he could feel the pores in his skin stretching open and trying to breathe in the humid world of this poor shower come sauna. The small fan tasked with clearing the stall was inefficient to the point of not existing and Castle found more attention was required to concentrate on breathing through the hot clouds the longer he stood there. It was giving his lungs a work out, but he couldn't make himself leave.

He just wanted to feel clean. He wanted to forget.

He needed Kate.

He thought of her voice when they spoke the night before, well into the morning for her until she kicked him off the line and told him we had to be awake in a few hours – couldn't look like a wreck in Hollywood. If he had any intention of attending the 9.30am scriptwriter's meeting, she would have been right but that was too dangerous, too obvious. He would have been an easy target. Unable to confess though he just soaked in her sleepy low tones and wished her goodnight.

He imagined her smile across the speakers and across the country as he told her about his day while she got ready for bed. She sounded so light, so happy to be talking to him; he couldn't drag that down and tell her everything. She had made it better and let him forget. Right now he just wanted to call her and ask her advice; to explain and confess but it was only four in the afternoon in New York and she would be enjoying her day off – had even mentioned going out to see her Dad. He couldn't take her away from that.

He had already caved and tried to call her once but her phone must be off. So he took a shower to prove to himself could wait. Just lie low here until it was safe to make another call from the house line here.

Maybe he could get her to organise a ticket from her end and he could pay her back. No credit card trail. Paula would be furious, but at least he'd be back in New York and Natalie Rhodes would be here. It was either that or think about filing for a restraining order.

He was overreacting. If it was anyone else, he would scoff at how sensitive they were, but it was him and he can't shake a feeling of violation. He heard the phone go out in the single room and he flinched. Natalie Rhodes was not _here_. Answer the damn phone. Be a man.

He dragged the thin white towel from the frosted glass door with pruning fingers and stumbled out, knees too relaxed from the heat or muscles too exhausted and dehydrated to get him safely over the small lip of tiling. He bit back a curse and dashed for the phone, pulling on the towel as he went, glad he that thought to shut the curtains.

The number wasn't local and it took him staring at the first few numbers blankly to process it was a cell phone. He didn't remember cell numbers – that's what his phone was for, but there was something about the numbers. It clicked over to answerphone while he tried to remember, mostly grateful the ringing had stopped, but the order of digits evoking a story in his head...3 detectives went and met 9 witnesses at 40th …Crap!

He dove for the receiver. Kate!

"Hello? Hello!" he got it to his ear. "Hello? Kate?"

He was met with the drone of empty air; offensive and so, so disappointing. He stared at the device in his hands, so big and bulky compared to his slim cell and tries to get over just how badly he wanted it to be her and how lost he feels now. An insecure part of his psyche goaded him, laughing at how pathetic he is right now. Step up and be a man. You actually need her to protect you?

He knew it was going to be different with Kate, but sometimes to emotional co-dependency still surprises him; the need to share _everything_, good, bad, and hairy because they could help each other. He was insistent that she didn't have to do it alone but he didn't realise at the time exactly how much he was going to need her. Because that was new. He's always done it alone.

But not anymore.

Trust. He had to learn to trust her, and he wanted to. He did. There weren't any more maybes.

He swallowed and dialled her cell.

…

"Hello?" her voice is a little husky and it jangles across his nerves.

"Kate?"

"Castle," she sighed, her voice flavoured the way he only hears from her: humour, intelligent, and a little tinge of resign like she knows she is going to be dealing with his habits for the rest of her life but can't make herself care that much. And what he would like to think is love.

Does she know what her voice does to him?

"Sorry," he manages. "Was in the shower. Couldn't make it in time."

"That's okay," she forgives him easily.

"You, uh, you about to head out to dinner with your Dad?"

"Had to cancel actually," she hummed out, sounding a little distracted.

"Is everything okay?"

"It will be."

"You sure?" he presses, distracted by her voice and how close it makes her feel. But she isn't. She's on the opposite side of the country and there's nothing he can do about that even if she's hurting. But if something was really wrong, she would have called him, right? The thought makes him sick; not because he hasn't managed to muster the courage to share his own problem, but because his phone has been off and dismantled since yesterday. Even if she had called he wouldn't know about it.

"I hope so." She sounds light enough that his worry recedes a little. Maybe she had just got called in to work and had to reschedule.

"I tried to call about an hour ago," he offered, trying to find an easy way to enter the subject.

"Yeah, I saw I had a missed call, but I didn't recognise the number."

"You get called into work or something?"

"No, I just was out of cell range."

"Huh," the thought is intriguing and distracting, just like her. Natalie Rhodes is fading from his mind. "I didn't know there were places like that anymore."

"Technology can be pretty deceiving," she sounds torn between exasperated and amused.

"You going to tell me the story?"

"It is quite the story," she grumbles. "But how about you tell me about your day? How was that meeting with the scriptwriters this morning?" The question sounds pointed, but then he was probably just imagining it. He should have just talked to her last night – the guilt of not telling her making the ordeal sound worse- like he was hiding it.

What if she thought he didn't tell her because something had happened?

He could see how she might and it makes his stomach almost as bitter as his mouth. He had to tell her and this was probably the best intro he was going to get. "That's a funny story actually," he offers weakly. It's not funny but disposed to tell her everything now, damn if he can't think of a sentence to follow up with.

She doesn't wait for him to muster and tame his vocabulary though. "Funny, huh? Would you say it was as funny as getting a call from the LAPD to say your boyfriend is missing?"

"What?" he choked.

"Paula filed a Missing Persons Report with the police last night and they contacted me this morning," she sounds sharp and he can feel panic starting to spread through him. She knew. She wasn't going to forgive him and he had screwed up another relationship- the only one he really wanted. "After a few questions I figured out a timeline and guessed what's going on. Paula reported it at 9 pm but we were on the phone till 4am." He can't help but follow her words even when the receiver slipped an inch in his shaking wet palm. "The officer might have also mentioned Paula wasn't alone." She lets out a long exhale and he finds him still tensed for accusations but they don't come. "Where are you, Castle?"

"In Burbank." It takes him two attempts to get the words out.

"Hotel?"

She…she doesn't sound mad.

"Motel."

"How's the bed?" she asks randomly, actually sounding interested and normal. He sucks in a welcome breath.

"A health hazard," he admitted, the amused snort he let out taking them both by surprise. "I used the couch."

"You can never do anything the easy way, can you? Call the cops, Castle, tell them you're fine, you haven't been abducted so you can go back to your Hotel."

"No," he shook his head even though he knew intellectually that she couldn't see him. He couldn't go back there.

"What happened, Castle? Was it Natalie again?"

He couldn't help but look around the room like her name alone could summon the blonde actress. It was a nervous tick he had developed the few days he had been here and it just made him paranoid, jumping at shadows – sometimes actual shadows and sometimes people who were more famous than him and infinitely harder to shake than real shadows.

"Okay, I get it, you don't want to talk about it."

"No," he protested, not wanting her to think he didn't trust her with it, but still mystified how to actually tell her and not sure he could handle trying to keep it from her and waiting for his life to implode. He knew better than to try and keep anything from Kate Beckett.

"Castle," she sighs, but she doesn't sound resigned or exasperated. She sounds like the woman who doesn't like him judging himself too harshly, the one who doesn't mind when his nightmares wake her in the night. A few moments pass before she continues. "How would you feel about a clean king size bed with complimentary breakfast and a Jacuzzi just minutes from the beach?" she asked.

"What?"

"Sea Shore Motel, Santa Monica, not far off Ocean Park Boulevard. Be here in an hour."

"You're in LA?" he squeaked. Was that even possible?

"I put two and two together. Sounds like you needed backup. Or a bodyguard."

"How?" he stuttered, relief and a wild hope tearing through him in mind numbing waves.

"The clock is ticking. Be here in an hour or the LAPD will really have something to investigate."

She came here for him? "Thank you," he breathed. "Just…thank you."

"Partners, Castle."

"Partners," that word was so sweet on his tongue right now, he felt like crowing it. His hand was shaking with it all around the receiver.

"Besides… I missed you," the admission was soft, so soft and a smile stretched across his face so hard it hurt.

"Missed you more," he promised, indulging in Hollywood sap because he knew would secretly love it and the words were never as true as right then.

…


	3. Chapter 3

**Standard disclaimer.**

**Thank you for all your reviews...especially those who pointed out my google miss trying to figure out the difference in time zones. It is now fixed. I hope - don't make my word for it. **

**This is another long one, but I like it. I'll make them shorter (so I can still do assignments) from now on. **

**Enjoy and let me know if i took it a little far.**

**...**

Kate didn't stand much of a chance. Or was it him?

It was barely forty minutes later when the taxi pulled in and the speed the passenger tumbled out of it told her all she needed to know. The way they crashed into each other was painful, jarring her bones, pounding the breath out of her lungs as effectively as running into a brick wall or falling from the climbing wall. It was desperate and public and embarrassing but she had dreamed of this moment constantly for about nine long hours now. And he was here, he was in her arms and she was in his.

Her mouth was open trying to get air back when he cut off all attempts. He raided her mouth, sucking her tongue back into his own and teasing it with his teeth and the little air she had regained left her on a moan. The violent thump of blood to her head was almost painful. A hand roughly gripped the nape of her neck and tilted her so he could ravage further, uncharacteristically aggressive as he tried to brand her from the inside out. He kissed her with the same desperation he reserved for when he had her under him, begging her to join him and trying to breathe his love for her right into her bones.

Right now her bones were starting to burn, her knees far too soft so she broke away, not even able to savour the taste of him on her lips between the heaves of her chest, every bit out of breath as she was after running eight miles.

What this man did to her.

"You ever pull a stunt like that gain without telling me," she breathed, unable to come up with a threat strong enough to combat the sickened wish for denial and oblivion that had almost dragged her under when she heard he was missing. She never wanted to feel that way again.

"I'm sorry," he puffed, his breath warm over her sensitive lips. She wove her hands more firmly into his hair and brought his face back to hers so she could rest her forehead against his while she caught her breath. It was more than just their kiss. Her lungs felt abused between it and the breathless, overwhelming warmth and sense of _home_ the sight of him had triggered.

God, she loved this man so much.

"Which room are we?" he asked sliding his forehead away from hers and releasing the strange feeling of bone on bone instead pressing a kiss to her temple back to the grateful, reverent, loving man he reverted to outside their bedrooms. "Forgot to ask over the phone."

"I wouldn't have been able to tell you," she smiled, stepping away and really looking at him. His hair is damp and unkempt, stubbled and so tense he practically vibrated in place and it just reminded her how she got here. Why. He had just dropped off the face of the Earth. "I called you from the airport and I was in the taxi when you called me back."

"How did you know it was me? It was the hotel phone."

"I didn't," she managed to smile at the luck of it and ran her fingers over his chin. "But I had to start somewhere. I thought returning a call from LA would be the way to go."

"Katherine Beckett, Super Cop." He was trying to be funny and she didn't know who he was trying for. Maybe they both needed it – a glimpse of something familiar to keep them from falling apart in a car park.

She shook her head. "Just lucky."

He held out a hand and she took it. "You said something about a king size bed and a Jacuzzi."

She shrugged and began leading him towards the stairs. "Internet summary. Would you like the tour?"

"Yes, yes I would."

…

The tour hadn't gotten further than the bedroom where their suitcases still lay toppled hastily by the door. After their greeting downstairs she hadn't expected tenderness but he had snagged her fingers and walked them backwards slowly until their knees hit the bed and gravity took them down.

"I missed this," he slipped his arms around her, lacing his fingers at the small of her back and bringing her in so she shared his pillow. He smelled of cheap commercial shampoo and she imagined she still smelled of airplane – not a scent anyone appreciated- but when she moved her hand to his shirt buttons in preparation for discarding her own clothing, his hand wrapped around hers and trapped it with disturbing speed.

Her eyes snapped to his in alarm. What was that about?

His eyes were focused on their hands as if trying to force his grip to slacken. The heart under her palm thudded unhealthily along with the sudden clamminess of sweat on his own hands.

"Castle," she whispered. "What happened?"

He swallowed and gentled his grip and her fingers worked under the space between buttons to his skin without undoing them in hopes of calming him and trying to give him what he needed – whatever that was. She wasn't exactly a pro when it came to healthy relationships. She hadn't seen him this spooked before – at least not about something as trivial as Natalie Rhodes.

This had to be about the actress.

"What did she do to you? When we talked you just said she had been following you around set all week - said she was still interested in doing her research, but when you declined she seemed okay about it."

He shook his head, looking shamed. "Apparently I don't read people as well as I thought I did."

"Castle, what did she _do_?"

"Nothing, nothing much," he demurred as he finally let her hand go, but it was unconvincing. "Not much more than she tried back in New York."

"Castle, she groped you in a restaurant!" she bit out, the indignation of the incident two years ago coloured by fresh indignity- Natalie had palmed him, her then partner and now boyfriend, while they were at dinner with Josh in a horrible parody of a double date. It was hard to think of him as anyone's but her own, but that pressure was probably not what he needed right now. She withdrew her fingers from his chest and rested them against the edge of his jaw. "Just tell me," she encouraged him gently.

He caught her hand and held it there. "Had a pretty full day yesterday," he admitted. "They wanted me to look into the posters and trailers, but that was fine. A little exciting even."

She nodded in encouragement.

"I told you they were filming the fight scene so I was invited to the shoot. I told you they wanted to see how I got myself out when they found out it was all based on research but Paula got me out of that one just before the stunt double fell on her face, so that drew most of the attention away, I guess, and I went back to my room," he drew in a breath. "But Paula and I fought."

"Fought about what?"

"The gala for Natalie's charity," he shrugged as if she couldn't feel the muscles under her practically shaking with the strain of being held so tense. "Natalie invited me and Paula said I would attend. She didn't tell me until we got back to the hotel that Natalie's date was suddenly too sick to make it and she had promised I'd go as her replacement date. I told her no way but she basically told me to grow some balls and do my job."

"Nice," Kate frowned, her thumbs caressing the stubble.

"She's good at her job. She was almost spitting when I told her I wouldn't. Told her if she pushed it I wouldn't go at all and then _she_ could deal with Natalie."

So that's where his night intersected with the insistent star.

"What did Natalie have to say about that?"

"I didn't stick around to hear. I just grabbed my wallet, cell and my shoes and got the hell out of there." The shame and self-loathing in his eyes almost crippled her. She had seen this look before. She'd seen it on the faces of battered women and it made her sick every time.

"Your shoes?" she asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"I fell asleep after the argument," he muttered. "I didn't even make it under the covers. I was just so tired. I've been jumping at shadows all week and it's been keeping me awake but I dreamt about you," he actually smiled a little. "That night out at the Hamptons?"

She bit her lip, trying not to drag them off topic the way she really wanted to with memories of that night in her head. They had been the fodder for their phone conversation later that night. "I remember."

He smiled wider and she felt her heart lift. She wanted to make if better, but she still didn't really know anything. She let her thumbs restart their path across his jaw.

"When I woke up I thought it was you," he admitted, accepting her prompt, his smile gone as if it had never been there. "I still had my face in the pillow, didn't even remember I wasn't in New York with you. I just thought you were waking me up, but when I opened my eyes she went for my zip and it," his eyes slammed shut. "It wasn't you. God, Kate. I'm so sorry."

"Hey," she tried to get him to look at her. "It's okay."

"It's not," he croaked. "She was in her underwear. On my bed. And it wasn't you."

She choked down a wave of revulsion but it must have shown on her face because he started to pull away. The cry she let out wasn't articulated and she held him to her, winding her arms around his neck like a snare. She was revolted at the audacity of the woman, not him. No, god, she couldn't let him think that.

"I left. As soon as I opened my eyes I left," he whispered. "I just had to get away from her. I told myself…"

"What?" she whispered.

He shook his head. "It's not a big deal. It's not and I know I overreacted. I mean, she tried to steal a base, so what? I was fine last time. I mean I was surprised but I didn't feel…"

"Feel what?"

He shrugged again, trying to play it off. "Dirty?" he offered.

"Hey, you did nothing wrong," she told him fiercely.

"Then why do I feel like I cheated on you?"

Oh, God. "Castle," she gaped.

"I told myself. Never again. No one else. You were the last one for me and I would never see another woman like that in my bed. No one outside my doctor was ever going to touch me again."

"She didn't touch you, Castle. She assaulted you."

He still looked like he expected her to slap him and run away. The doubt in him turned her stomach and she hated the reminder that he was just as broken as she was sometimes.

"She broke into your suite, came to your bed and assaulted you. If the gender roles were reversed, if it was me and a guy had pulled a stunt like that," she paused at the flare of his nostrils and the clench of his jaw. "That would be assault, Castle."

"If any guy ever even..." he didn't even finish but his face and neck flushed red all the way to his ears and he looked genuinely menacing, menacing enough she felt a shiver run through the back of her mind.

"Hey," she pressed a kiss to his chest over his heart through his shirt, not sure if he wanted a real kiss yet. "It's not going to happen, 'kay? But that anger you're feeling? Feel that for yourself. You have done _nothing _wrong."

He took a few breaths to get himself under control and she risked a kiss to his throat and then another to his jaw. Gradually she felt him relax around her and she risked meeting his eyes again. The anger was gone as was most of the hurt. She got the feeling he was more distressed to find anyone in his bed than the fact Natalie had groped him again.

"You're not mad?" he asked hesitantly.

She actually laughed at that impossibility. "Are you kidding? I want to go and arrest her."

His eyes flew wide.

"Natalie?"

"Of course. Breaking and Entering and assaulting my boyfriend. If she even thinks about it again we are getting a restraining order."

"We?"

"What? You think I'm leaving you alone this week? You have a job to do and I am going to have your back, dammit."

He lunged at her, rolling them so her back was flat to the comforter kissing her roughly until she couldn't hold back a laugh anymore. She had missed him so much; this infuriatingly sexy, gentle, fragile, loyal man. He drew back in shock and she laughed harder; it burbled out of her when he tentatively grinned back down at her.

"You're really not mad?"

She took hold of both his arms, hooked her legs around the back of his thighs and collapsed one elbow, rolling until she came out on top, straddling his hips.

"You are mine, Castle. You hear me?"

"Yeah," he nodded breathlessly.

Her hand drifted down to his zip without ever leaving his eyes. All she read there in the suddenly darker pupils was a want that matched her own. Confidently she popped the button and drew the zip down.

Her fingers slipped through the silky boxers and took him possessively in her hand.

"This too. This is all mine."

He gulped and nodded up at her.

"Mine," she repeated, stroking him deliberately.

"All for you, Kate. I'm officially renaming it; Kate's Boy Toy."

She let out a loud ha at that and his grin went so wide his eyes practically disappeared.

"Kate's Little Man?" he suggested, reaching to tickle her ribs when she shook with laughter above him. She squirmed away letting out a squeal but he dropped his hands to her waist and held her there. Both were panting and she forced herself upright, finger combing the hair out of her eyes. The contraction of her legs around him, pulling her directly over him and holding her there made him groan and she felt the heat licking through her desperately.

"Kate's Little Man, huh?" she asked breathlessly. "You being modest, Castle?"

"Oh, you know me," he replied.

"In the biblical sense," she agreed rolling deliberately for the combined hit of heat and his groan. "But I've missed you this past week."

"Not as much as I missed you," he echoed his reply from earlier in the day.

"Is that right?" she went to work on his shirt buttons. "Castle, do you remember what you said last night? What you promised me over the phone?"

"Yes," he whispered, his hands already at home on the skin of her stomach just above her jeans' waistband, massaging until she wanted to scream.

"I'm going to hold you to them. You used some pretty descriptive words last night, but I want the pictures, a whole movie of them. Just you, me and Kate's Little Man."

…


	4. Chapter 4

**Standard Disclaimer.**

**Hey there. I thought you'd all be interested to see how Beckett's plans are working out back home at the 12th.**

**Thanks for the reviews...good to know I didn't offend anybody. Enjoy.**

…

"Detective Ryan, Esposito, a word?"

The arch in Victoria Gates' eyebrow didn't really give them much of a choice, but even if it had she turned back into the confines of her office before they could get a word either way. They exchanged a loaded look, both sure where this was going. Beckett was over half an hour late now.

If Gates was going to ask if they knew where she was, she was out of luck. On any other day, they would have had something to hide. It had become an unacknowledged game: they were pretty sure Gates knew about Beckett and Castle. But she never said anything, and neither did they or the couple in question. It was almost like they were trying to see who could get the other to crack the fastest…or slowest. The game was reaching a year now.

Today would not be the day the game ended though because neither of them had any idea where their team leader was. Castle wasn't even in the city, so it's not like she was just going to show up a little rushed, tousled and late.

Esposito strode for the office without taking his eyes off the woman partially concealed through the blinds but Ryan followed, his eyes guiltily darting everywhere around the room but the desk with elephants and an empty seat.

They filed in silently and stood before her desk, still unable to shake the feeling that they had become before the headmistress. It had gotten a lot easier to enter. Two years ago they could barely look at the office or the new inhabitant, but with a deceiving stealth, Iron Gates had begun to grow on them. It was based on a relationship of grudging mutual respect. Gates for the work her best team did and for them, her ability to carry out the job they had never imagined anyone else being able to do.

Still it wasn't hearts and roses.

Especially when she looked over the edge of her spectacles at them like that.

"What are you both working on?" Huh. She was really going for the roundabout method today.

"Waiting on a BD, Sir, and getting the Peterson case ready for trial."

"Beckett is going to testify?"

"Yes, Sir," Ryan agreed.

"Where is she up to with the prep?" Read: Where is she?

"I'm not sure." Read: I don't know, and wouldn't tell you anyway. Nice try.

She sighed, pulling her glasses off and letting them hang by the string around her neck. "I just took a call for her from the ADA. They want to run over the evidence this morning, but seeing as how the Detective is not here, I've rescheduled it for four this afternoon."

"Thank you, Sir," Ryan mumbled.

"Don't thank me, Detective. You and your partner are going to have to take over for Beckett."

"Sir?" Esposito frowned. If the meeting was at four, why would they need to cover? Beckett would make it in by then.

"She asked for some personal time and doesn't know when she'll be able to return to work. Until that time you two will report to me."

"Did she say why?" Esposito still looked confused. Beckett taking time off when prepping a case for trial?

Gates' eyebrows rose at his blatant curiosity and leant back in her chair. "I thought she would have called you both. But perhaps she didn't have time; she sounded like she was in quite a rush." She didn't blink under their intense scrutiny or at their barely concealed irritation at her cryptic revelation but made a poor job out of holding the smug light out of her eyes. "She only told me that it was a family emergency."

They blinked but recovered and nodded in acknowledgement, a little off balance at the subtly playful side of their boss, usually directed and shared with Beckett, being focused on them.

"Unless you can get hold of Beckett, you're going to have to start from scratch. Take the files and use Meeting 2," she switched back to professional and turned back to the report in front of her. "I want an update at lunch," she added dismissively replacing her reading glasses on the edge of her nose, not looking up.

Did that mean they were having lunch together?

…

"I'm not sure how much longer I can do this."

Ryan was looking a little frazzled and nodded furiously in agreement. "She didn't even take her glasses off when she took that slice."

"Not that," Esposito shook his head. "This case."

"What about it?" Ryan was still eyeing the lone slice of pepperoni pizza in the middle of the table.

"There are boxes of stuff we have to prep. Boxes."

"Beckett does it fine, so how hard can it be? There's two of us and only one of her."

"It's just…we worked this case. We know he's guilty. I highlighted these financials. You've got the call logs and records and you remember."

"Yeah." He still sounded lost.

"What if it isn't enough? He could walk because we screw this up."

"It's not like we're going to testify. Beckett knows what she's doing, I mean, she was pre-law remember. Law's in her blood. We just need to hold the fort."

"Yeah," Esposito expelled a breath. "Yeah. We can do that. Just until she gets back – whenever that is."

"Still haven't heard back?"

"Nah. You?"

"Nothing." Ryan shook his head. "It still won't connect. It must be off."

"But she can't have had it off all day. Why hasn't she called us back? We've left her, like, ten messages."

"Who knows? Maybe she lost her phone."

"Please," Esposito scoffed.

"Gates did say it was a family emergency. Maybe she's at a hospital somewhere and has to have it off." Ryan suggested, shrugging uneasily.

"Yeah. Maybe." That would make sense. His eyebrows drew together.

"Do you think we should call her Dad? Make sure Big Beckett is okay?"

…

Esposito looked at his partner flatly and replaced the receiver with care. The pulse of his jaw clenching suggested he would have preferred to slam it down instead resorting to lacing his fingers and stretching his knuckles. "Great," he grumbled. "Now there's one more person worried."

"Hey," Ryan tried not to sound overly defensive, but the prolonged failure to contact either of their team mates was dragging at his nerves. "You said it was a good idea, too."

"Where the hell is she?" he practically exploded. How many times were they going to have to track those two down?

He had a point.

"We can't tell without tracking her phone but it's almost like she's keeping it off on purpose."

"Why would she do that?" The Latino snatched a stress ball from his top drawer and set about rearranging the surface viciously. "It's a work day. Castle's not here."

The words sunk into his gut and pulled him forward in his seat, grabbing his partner's forearm. "Castle's not here."

"That's what I just said." Esposito looked from Ryan's hand to his stunned face.

"No. He's not _here_, and now she isn't either."

"Okay, I see where you're going with this," Esposito shook off the grip and slumped back. "But this is Beckett we're talking about. She's not about to blow off work to fly to L.A just for a sex marathon."

"You saw how weird she was without him this week."

"Coffee deprived is not weird," Esposito contradicted him. "We fed her. She was fine."

"She missed him." Ryan insisted.

"Not enough to fly across the country." He dismissed it completely, turning his chair and looking back to his screen.

"You want a bet?" Ryan challenged, inexplicably irked he wouldn't even give his idea any credence. Esposito slowly swivelled back to face him, a strange mix of disbelief, irritation and amusement fighting for dominance on his face. Ryan brought his chin up, not ready for it to be cast off so lightly. He thought he knew everything about relationships, but Ryan doubted he understood what it was to truly miss someone until the point where you did something stupid. Like fly to L.A. Hell, those two had done it before.

Esposito's eyebrows rose at his partner's determination and he leant forward, putting the stress ball aside, his interest captured. Looks like they were really doing this. "You're on," he agreed. "And _when_ you lose, you have to wear a dress to the precinct for a week for being such a sap."

"I'm a sap?" he sounded offended. "Don't think I didn't see you crying at the wedding."

"Everyone cries at weddings, Honeymilk."

Ryan glared "When _I_ win, you have to buy Gates a bunch of red roses every week for a month."

Esposito glowered, fighting the revulsion the idea played on his stomach- the humiliation. But damn it, he had worked with Beckett long enough, had her back when she was hurting and Ryan was completely unaware. He knew her and he was not going to lose.

He held out his hand and took Ryan's in a firm shake, sealing it. "You ping her last call. Pull the record, see where it was, when. I'll check in with TSA."

…


	5. Chapter 5

**Standard disclaimer.**

**Hey there. Here's a bit more precinct life since you felt a bit sorry for Espo - dont blame you. I will get around to answering the reviews cause you are all greta, but I have an anatomy and physiology assignment test today I was studying for...**

**Hope you enjoy the chapter more than I'm going to enjoy the test.**

…

Esposito's knees unlocked and he dropped to his seat, well aware of the gaping look he had on his face, but too surprised to do a damn thing about it. He still had his cell in his hand, he hadn't managed to divorce it from his hand since his contact at TSA gave him the news – it was hard enough to end the call. Probably didn't even say thanks. Guess he really owed the guy.

What was happening?

His partner was married and starting a family, and now he knew Beckett better than he did? The Irishman in question looked at him in between loading pages on his desktop.

"I can't believe it," he managed. "She actually went to L.A."

Ryan didn't even gloat. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Because it's _Beckett_," Esposito protested. "I thought I knew her. That damn writer is brainwashing her."

"Brainwashing?" Ryan smirked. Looks like Castle was getting to all of them. Esposito glared but he couldn't force the smirk off. "Well," Ryan shrugged. "Maybe you're not the guru on relationships you think you are. Sometimes you just need to connect…" he trailed off, but instead of a flush at the thought of the parents _connecting_, his mind had clearly gone off on another tangent, his face slack as he stared off into the middle distance dreamily, clearly reminiscing about how he and Jenny connected.

His screen flashed in completion and Esposito nudged him, thankful to draw him back to the present.

"Hey, her phone records just came in," Ryan blinked and began scouring them. "Last call was made at 6. 18 pm yesterday from…LA Domestic." He clicked and opened the options in a practiced move.

"Whoa. What are you doing?"

Ryan looked over his shoulder distracted. "Listening?" he asked.

"You want to listen? What's wrong with you?"

Ryan smirked. "The call is less than a minute and a half to an unknown local number. I think it's safe."

"Not if she ever finds out you did this." Esposito grumbled. He really didn't want to hear them all lovey-dovey with each other – not that he wasn't happy for them. That would really put the nail in his coffin and to hell with him bringing Gates flowers.

"What happened to '_We're not afraid of Beckett'_?"

Esposito shoved the smaller man's shoulder playfully and Ryan chuckled. He ignored it and looked back at the screen, scanning the incoming calls absently. Most of the numbers didn't make sense to him but one with a familiar base caught his attention. "Hold up. Scroll up."

"What?"

"That call there…that's to the precinct and its Gates' extension. Made at 11.32am yesterday when she had the day off. Then there's three calls to Castle's number…all of them under a minute and a half."

"Long enough to be unanswered and to leave a voice message?"

"Maybe," Esposito took the mouse and scrolled up to review the calls made before she called Gates. "Look at this one. L.A number and it lasted almost ten minutes and then she called Gates and asked for the time off."

"It's not his cell. Maybe from his hotel?" he looked over at his partner. "Run it?"

"Run it."

Ryan took back the mouse and lifted the number and entered it into the database with quick shortcut keystrokes and hitting ENTER sharply. The progress bar took centre stage on the black screen, crawling left to right across the screen like a slowly growing caterpillar.

It would probably just spit out the name of the hotel Castle was booked into, but that way at least they could ring and get transferred to Castle's room. Then he could ask Beckett what the hell she thought she was doing.

It stopped at 99% for a full ten seconds before dropping away abruptly, skipping 100% and giving up the result.

"LAPD." Ryan breathed. "Seriously? What did they want?" he asked his partner but was met with silence. "Javi?"

Nestling the paper against his left hand, Esposito was already copying the last digits of the number down. He shoved the pen abruptly between his teeth and reached for his phone.

"Hey," Ryan cut the call before it started. "We can't get involved. We don't have any jurisdiction."

"It's Beckett and Castle."

"Which means they can take care of themselves." Ryan insisted.

The look he got bordered on dangerous, but he knew his argument made sense.

"Fine," Esposito said shortly. "Pull up NCIC. I want to know what's going on."

…

"There's quite a bit of stuff here. A drunken disorderly in 91. Resisting arrest. The dropped murder charge. Hey, the FBI even made notes on here about the Dunn case."

"Son of a bitch," Esposito cursed under his breath, still sore on Beckett's behalf.

"Javi," Ryan piped up, drawing him back before his mind could go back into the bombed out shell his boss' apartment ended up.

"Yeah."

"Found it. Monday night. Missing Persons Report filed by Paula Haas."

Castle was missing? No wonder Beckett left.

"Book tickets," he said shortly, refusing to let his grim experiences concoct anything. "You know where my card is. I'll talk to Gates."

"You're paying?" Ryan asked, surprised.

"You're still paying off the wedding."

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me," Esposito shot over his shoulder. "Castle is totally paying me back."

…

_Just arrived and got our bags. I'll text you when we find them. Love you._

Ryan watched until the screen went dark and then slipped his cell into his jeans pocket. "What now?"

"I don't know. Her phone's still off."

"Phone the LAPD? Knowing Beckett, that's the first place she'd go so she could try and get in on the investigation."

"I don't think so," Esposito shook his head. "She took out two thousand dollars so no one could track her with her cards. She didn't even rent a car because she'd have to provide ID. Wherever she is, she doesn't intend to be found that easily. She's not just going to walk into a police station."

"She didn't rent a car?" Ryan asked.

"Doesn't look like it. I sweet talked the girls over at Hertz hire and they said they didn't have any record of Katherine Beckett."

"Then how did she get out of here? She didn't drive so she might have taken public transport; a taxi or a limo bus. We could just canvas the drivers to see if they saw her yesterday. Maybe we'll get lucky and find someone who could tell us where she was headed."

"Okay. You take the taxi drivers. I'm going to try that number she called after she touched down here then try the buses."

"What am I supposed to canvas with? It's not like I have… oh wait. I do."

"You do what?"

He took out his phone. "I have her picture." He thumbed through his gallery until he found the snapshot and held it out triumphantly. It was taken in front of the murder board over a year ago, before they were a couple, but you wouldn't be able to tell from looking at the photo with the way they were so intent on each other. It was quite a good shot, if he did say so himself. Sure their faces were a little dark because of the contrast with the bright, lit whiteboard behind, but they both had the same enraptured, breathless smile as they puzzle pieces of the case at the time fit together for them.

"Dude," Esposito was looking over his shoulder at the screen. "Why do you still have this?"

"For Jenny. When I told her how those two can get….you know… she didn't believe me so the next day I took this. Then I never really thought to delete it. It's a good photo; they are-"

"Revolting? You can't even see their faces clearly and it's disturbing."

"You have a better picture?" Ryan challenged, hurt on behalf of his photo.

Esposito glared at him.

"Wait. What?" Ryan felt a grin push away the petty insult. Was his partner actually blushing?

Come on. Say it. You have a pic of Beckett on your phone, don't you? A _good_ one…

"Shut up," his partner was already walking away. "I'll forward it to you."

"Uh huh," he sing-sang.

"I said shut up." He called back over his shoulder, his neck darker than usual.

…


	6. Chapter 6

**Standard disclaimer.**

**Not too long before we get back to Caskett. Bear with me, you guys are awesome.**

"Any luck?" Esposito ducked an older couple who stopped dead to consult the terminal map, blissfully unaware of their new role as traffic island.

"Nothing. Only in LA does Beckett blend in. I talked to at least five taxi drivers who swear she rode with them, but the time was off for all of them. I didn't even get to talk to most of them – the amount of cabs here in peak travel time is insane."

"Yeah, well so much for LA being friendlier than New York," Esposito scoffed. "I keep getting froze out. Made the mistake of trying to talk to some of them while they were on break and save some time but said they weren't talking to NYPD."

They slouched down into the bench and watched the thinning crowds. Automatically their eyes stopped on the same coloured hair, a voice, or the set of shoulders and confident stride.

"This sucks," Esposito sighed.

"Sucks," Ryan agreed. "Hey, did that number pan out?"

"Nah. No answer. Maybe she was calling a friend out here; might not have taken a cab at all."

"We need help," Ryan sighed. "And a place to stay. It's already 8.00."

"Beckett and Castle are _missing_."

"It's not like we can stay here," Ryan shot back. "I say we call the LAPD and try and get some help from whoever is in charge of Castle's case."

"You said we couldn't interfere," Esposito accused.

"We're not going to get involved. Not really. We're technically looking for Beckett, not Castle. I'm going to ask one of them to come down here and get us in to talk to security so I can review the tapes and track her from the gate."

"What makes you think they're going to co-operate with you?"

"Because I," he pulled the number up from his temporary case contacts. "Am the King of Media."

…

"Just an Officer, seriously? A guy like Castle goes missing, and Natalie Rhodes is there when they file the report and you only get to speak to an Officer?"

"Better that way," Ryan gulped down a mouthful of coffee. "Might be from different cities, but we still rank him, besides we only need his face and his badge."

"How did you know he would come?"

"The guy was all squeaky when he talked about Natalie."

"So you name dropped."

"I was telling the truth, we have worked with her before and Beckett is the real Nikki Heat. Between the three of us we should be able to get him a signature."

"And the line about how you were sure she would be so happy that he helped find Castle, she would probably give him a kiss? That was low, Mr Freebie Five."

"She is not on my list anymore."

"Mine either."

…

So they might have used him a little bit. From the glass half-full point of view, it could be said that the two detectives showed Officer Glover what it was to be a detective; offered him the chance to be part of an investigation in a role uniforms never participated in.

Ryan had descended on security with a face like stone, using Glover like a pass: flash the metal and get on the ride. They pulled up footage of the flight from New York the day before, double checking it was the one TSA info pegged Beckett on and slowly tracked her movements until she hit the arrivals lounge.

"Wow," Officer Glover breathed when Ryan brought up a close up for confirmation.

"Here to find her boyfriend," Esposito grumbled.

"Right," he blushed. "She's just not what I pictured when I was told to contact…I'll just, uh, shut up now."

"Freeze that frame," Ryan barked. Beckett did catch a cab after all. "Zoom in. I want a plate and a cab number."

"Got it?" Esposito asked.

"Yeah," Ryan was typing the numbers into his phone as a memo.

"Really?" Grover sounded amazed. "You found her?"

Ryan smirked. "Not yet, but you're going to help us with that."

"Me?"

"Sure," Esposito punched his shoulder. "What do you say about going and tracking down that cab driver?"

…

Captain Victoria Gates liked to think she had learned a lot about the members of her precinct since she was appointed. The bad habits had been hard to miss and had always attributed to the leniency of Roy Montgomery. He was the 'good cop' and if she wanted to fix anything and make this the best precinct it could be, the best cops they could be, she was going to have to be the 'bad cop'.

But that didn't mean she didn't care.

She cared because despite the bad habits, there were twice as many good things.

And today that meant she had to deal with a frustrated ADA and let the remaining two members of her best Homicide team take personal time off with next to no excuse. She knew what they were doing; they were going after Beckett, and she had a pretty good idea of where Beckett was. She would be with Castle. Because if there was one thing that had been made abundantly clear to her during her term so far, it was that Beckett and Castle were Beckett and Castle- never one without the other.

She locked up the Conference room still strewn with files Detective Ryan and Esposito had dropped in their haste with an amused shake of her head. Those three, well four- unofficially- were something else. She kind of envied them, the bond they had.

She looked over at their desks in the empty bullpen and noted their computers were still active, the NYPD logo blazing as the screen saver. Not unusual to leave on overnight, locked, she headed over to manually shut them down now. Who knew when they would be back? She didn't want just anyone waking the computers up and perusing NYPD classified files.

She set her leather satchel in Ryan's seat and reached for the mouse and caught sight of papers stuffed hastily into the drawers. The white drew her eye, but it wasn't NYPD files. It distinctly read _LA_PD.

What on Earth…

She looked down to the reports and gingerly tugged them from where they peaked out of the drawer – which to Detective Ryan's merit, he had shut properly. The formatting was a little different but the reasoning was fairly clear. It was a MP report. For one Mr Richard. E. Castle.

The writer had been officially reported missing 9pm Monday.

Her best Homicide took sudden time off Tuesday.

She flicked through the pages and her eyebrows shot up when the LAPD logo returned to NYPD. Her other two homicide members had pulled Beckett's records. Several calls, all from LA were highlighted, two incoming and one outgoing. The one she called was the same number to call Monday night. It was circled as well as highlighted.

Gates frowned and picked up her briefcase and unlocked her office. The bag went down in the visitor's chair and while she waited for her computer to boot, the glasses came out.

There was obviously something about this call. Kidnapping demands? Ask for help?

She wouldn't know until she listened to it herself.

...

**And we all know what she'll hear, don't we...**


	7. Chapter 7

**Standard disclaimer**

**Here's a longer one becuase you guys are great and we all miss Caskett. **

**As for those of you who didn't follow the phone recording Gates is about to hear, the NYPD can coordinate with service providers and get copies of calls (which Ryan and Espo already pulled), so Gates is going to listen to the call Beckett got Monday night, before she knew Castle had gone off grid. It was a very...friendly...conversation.**

…

The carpet muffled their footsteps but Esposito and Ryan were both painfully aware of the Officer following them down the hall. The guy creaked and swished in his starched uniform and the constant scrape of skin against fabric as he mopped at sweat was very distracting.

"You okay?" Ryan asked, catching Officer Glover wiping his sweaty palms against his thighs out of the corner of his eye.

He nodded, swallowing so deliberately it looked painful. "Yeah," he nodded energetically.

The two detectives exchanged worried glances. Maybe green wasn't so great after all; sure a rookie was easy to use, but really not someone you wanted to take into an unknown situation. The way this guy was sweating he either had a condition or he was greener than the grass at the Yankee's stadium.

"Hey, Glover, you know we really appreciate all your help," Esposito started.

"Oh, no problem, Detective. It's my pleasure."

"Uh huh," Esposito gave him a forced smile. "You seem uh, a little anxious. How long have you been on the job?"

"A year."

"A year, huh? How you liking it?"

"Love it," again with the enthusiastic nodding.

"So, pretty exciting right. You done this before?"

"Done what?"

"Been out to talk to witnesses, canvasing…"

"Sure," his head was like a bad bobble-head.

"Good to know," Ryan said flatly, shooting Esposito a stare. He nodded once in understanding.

"We'll take point," Esposito briefed him to make sure. "So just stay behind us."

"Sure," the young man repeated, swallowing again. "Wouldn't want to startle Nikki Heat. Or Detective Beckett- I read she was the best NYPD has."

Esposito shot a look at his partner at the awe and enthusiasm the LAPD rookie gave the name, a '_how could you use him and just feed an addiction?'_ look. Ryan had the grace to look a little guilty.

"Yeah," Ryan smiled stiffly. "Beckett would kick your ass a lot faster than Nikki Heat could."

"The room's just ahead," Esposito interrupted, motioning for silence.

He stopped in front of the cream coloured door and sucked in a breath, prepared to face the wrath of Beckett for going through her records and flying out here.

"Castle!"

It was a gasp.

He almost believed they had all simultaneously and coincidentally misheard. His fist was still frozen an inch above the surface and all three men listened carefully. He looked over to Ryan who shrugged. From beyond the door there was an odd rocking noise that lasted for almost half a minute; something rocking against a hard flooring.

What the hell?

Then it stopped.

"Damn it, why did you have to be so tough with the restraints?"

That was Beckett's voice alright though neither had ever heard it sound like that before. Frustrated, but disturbingly breathy.

"You said tough, Kate. You wanted authentic remember?"

Castle! That was definitely his voice. She found him already?

"Come on, Kate, just a little further. Use your legs. Almost there. Harder. Come on, Kate harder! That's it."

Oh god she found him. Esposito's eyes slammed shut and he backed away from the door violently. When he opened them Ryan was crimson – even the tips of his ears lit up. The rocking got louder and he couldn't stop shaking his head. This was not happening.

"You owe Gates a month's worth of red roses," Ryan stuttered, his eyes scaling the walls like he could escape, retreating slowly back up the corridor.

Esposito followed dumbly, grabbing Officer Glover's shirt to drag him with. The guy's mouth was hanging open and he stumbled along behind, still looking back at the door, his feet clumsy and making his cuffs jingle. The thought of cuffs made him flush even hotter. Mom and Dad were playing. He was never going to unhear that.

They made it a few feet up the corridor before they heard her cry out loudly enough even Ryan heard it up front. It was a wordless exclamation filled with something he never wanted to hear again.

"Kate!" Castle called out at the same time.

"Oh my God," Officer Glover groaned.

But that didn't…he didn't want to imagine it, but that didn't sound like two people fast approaching pleasure. That sounded more like alarm. Esposito turned back and lifted his fist to pound on the door ignoring the rush of feet behind him, knowing Ryan would fall in behind but before he could set his knuckles to the paint there was a dark blur beside his hand and the door crashed inwards, the lock splintering the wood with a dry sounding tear and Officer Glover practically fell into the room.

What. The. Hell.

Ryan was already through the door trying to catch the rookie so he followed them into the main room of the suite where Glover had petrified in the entranceway just where the room widened out. Esposito tried to look around him to see what was going on. Did Beckett hurt herself? What if he was wrong? Or what if he was right the first time around…oh man, did he want to see?

Castles hands were still on Beckett's bare shoulders, supporting her weight, mouth gaping at the intrusion.

"Who the hell are you?" Beckett demanded of Glover who just trembled on the spot.

"Beckett," Ryan sighed happily, moving Glover out of the way so he could get in.

"Ryan?" she looked floored. Espo shoved his way past as well.

"Esposito?" Castle asked like a man who thought he saw something impossible and amazing and disturbing.

"What the hell are you doing, Caste?" he demanded.

Castle looked down at Kate, like he had forgotten about their positions and hastily lowered her back until all feet of her chair were touching the ground. Apparently he had caught her in the middle of a nose dive to the floor. "It's not what it looks like," he protested quickly.

"You sure, because it looks like you used duct tape to tie Beckett to a chair." He didn't want to know and would prefer to have the image of Beckett taped to a chair half-dressed erased from his mind, but at the same time was glad it wasn't what it sounded like from outside.

Beckett had not flown all this way for a sex marathon.

He didn't lose the bet.

"Yeah, well, I…uh…well you see we…I mean…" he turned to Beckett comically flustered and seeming to forget her situation with the kitchen chair. At least he had caught her when it tipped before she hit the floor. "What do I do?"

"You could untie me for a start," she suggested, her cheeks tinged with just enough red to make it look like she had used blusher.

"Right," he agreed, taking off for the kitchen drawer in maroon boxers in search of a knife or scissors.

"I know what this is," Ryan suddenly piped up, his face clearing. "This is the scene out of _Naked Heat_. The Texan assassin takes Rook to his chair in his study and Nikki in the card room and puts black pillowcases over their heads before he tries to interrogate them with the dental picks about the missing last chapter of the gossip queen's manuscript."

They all stare at him after the summary and he shifted uncomfortably.

"Pretty much," Kate admitted.

"They just started filming the scene," Castle explained. "Natalie tried to do it but she couldn't and Kate and I were playing poker. Instead of more strip…anyway, I bet her acting out the scene to see if she could get away and I won, so…" he began cutting away the duct tape from the wood.

"In the book you wrote that the pillow cases were technically blue."

All eyes swivelled to the Officer still standing in an awkward limbo between the main room and the entry. He couldn't seem to decide where to look, flicking between Castle and Beckett, but mostly Beckett, shifting his weight awkwardly. Apparently he was a fan. Who remembers the colours of pillowcases? Except Ryan.

"Oh, right, this is Officer Glover," Ryan introduced him. "He helped get us access to security and track down your taxi."

"I see," she sounded less than impressed. Glover took this as approval however and stumbled forward to take her hand and shake it violently, tearing her arm away from the tape Castle had just cut but not tried to peel away. Her startled intake of air was the only sign she made that the young man had just abruptly removed some skin and a few hairs from her right wrist.

"Detective Beckett. I am such a fan." She smiled weakly and looked over at Castle in entreaty. Glover hadn't let go of her hand yet and was practically between her legs where they were still taped to the front chair legs. Beckett looked to Castle again and he stepped in quickly, snapping back out of his shock.

"Officer Glover, was it?" he asked, holding out a hand and forcing Glover to drop Kate's.

"Mr Castle," Glover took his hand and pumped it. "I can't wait for _Naked Heat_ to come out. I must have watched _Heat Wave_ five times before I bought it on iTunes. It's an honour. It's actually why I worked on the case."

"What do you mean?" Castle gently shook his hand off and shepherded him away from Beckett so he could cut the tape around her ankles.

Esposito had all been so concentrated on the explanations he hadn't fully registered Beckett's state of undress. Castle was only in his boxers and a white T-shirt, crumpled with sleep and Beckett was dressed to match. The tank top was not unlike the sportswear she used when she trained at the gym, but the only thing covering her legs were the lace edged boy-short style underwear which barely covered anything. The sight of Castle with his mouth practically pressed to the skin of her thighs while he carefully cut the tape around her ankles was disturbing.

It had captured Glover's attention if his staring was any indication.

"Officer Glover," she prompted him, startling his gaze back up to her face.

"Right," he cleared his throat distractedly. "Sorry. We follow the protocol. We don't pursue cases or give them much credence until 24 hours passes. I think I mentioned that on the phone," he admitted.

"Wait. That was you who called me yesterday? Why would an Officer be responsible for notifying the designated contacts?"

"They're not," he stuttered, shooting a nervous look at Esposito and Ryan. "But I recognized Mr Castle's name when I took the report, and Ms Rhodes was pretty upset, so I might have looked into it a little. When I saw your name listed as Emergency Contact, I guess I got a little carried away and made the call."

"Do your superiors know?"

"No," he shook his head violently.

"So the LAPD still thinks I'm missing?" Castle guessed.

"I told you he wasn't," Beckett sighed. "But if they didn't know you already spoke to me, you couldn't tell them, right?"

"No problem," Esposito shrugged. "Just go back to your Hotel and let Paula see you and she'll go to the police. Or save yourself some time and go in and talk to Glover's superior."

"Or not," Glover practically bleated.

"Why not?" Castle asked. "I'd rather head in there than back to the set."

"It's faster," Beckett agreed, standing and rubbing at her left wrist. "I'd don't want to get another call from the LAPD telling me Castle has gone missing."

"Please don't," Glover implored.

"Why?" Esposito demanded.

Glover looked at Beckett, apprehensive and a little sick. "I asked you yesterday if I could, uh, pull a recording of the call…"

Beckett's mouth fell open in dismay. "You didn't."

Glover's face was painfully red now and the distracted way he had been staring at Beckett was starting to have other meanings. What had those two talked about that made this guy so…oh. Oh. Really? Listening to those two did it for him? Enough to kick down a door to see?

"Ms Rhodes wanted him found so bad and I'm …I'm the only one who listened to it," he petered off and Esposito didn't blame him: Beckett's eyes were starting to flash.

"You listened to it all?" she ground out.

He was backing away.

"Get out," she hissed. "If I don't get another call tonight so Castle can tell them himself he's not missing, we will be there tomorrow and you better make sure no one else gets a hold of that call. Are we clear?"

"Clear," he squeaked.

"Now get out."

He fled.

…


	8. Chapter 8

**Standard Disclaimer**

**Thanks for all the reviews, you guys are awesome. I have been informed that the NYPD can't actually pull the detail of calls made - which is good when you think about it (if you're a criminal), but I thought they could, based on a remark from Beckett in 1.03, so sorry, but I've already written the scene. Not 100% authentic anymore, because that chapter is made up.**

"So," Kate said quietly. "Gates told you I asked for leave and gave you the Peterson trial prep."

Castle settled behind the armchair, draping himself over the back really, and she appreciated the warmth and the reminder that whatever the reason for her trip out here, she was with him now. Across from her Ryan and Esposito occupied the couch, trying for nonchalant, but their shoulders were tense as if expecting something to fall on them at any second. Like her wrath. They just nod.

"Instead of getting on with that though, you decide to let your curiosity get the better of you and start pulling my records," she continued neutrally.

"We were worried," Ryan offered weakly. "You weren't answering your cell."

She was touched. She was. But she was not about to let them off the hook that easily. What kind of team leader would she be if she didn't even look like she was the least bit pissed that they had practically stalked her across the country? "So every time I take a day, you track me?"

"No!" they both looked affronted.

"And when you found out I was in LA, you hopped a flight, because…"

"Castle was missing, Beckett!"

"Which you knew how?"

"Pulled up the NCIC."

"Which you did because you were so bored with the trial prep." The sarcasm in her voice was sharp.

The two men looked at each other, daring the other to talk. In the end they both glared at each other and locked their jaws. What were they? In grade school? Who was she kidding, they were her boys – of course they were in grade school. She looked up at the third member of their bromance and recognised the way he was holding his lips, trying not to laugh out loud. She pushed her head back against him and let herself share his mirth silently. The guys were just too easy.

They still hadn't said anything.

"You guys are getting pretty good at tracking us down," Castle observed lightly from where he was still perched on the side of Beckett's armchair, throwing them a bone.

"Tell us about it," Esposito grumbled under his breath. Kate felt her eyebrow loft at that but managed to hide the smile she wanted to let loose. Her brothers.

"Well I think paying for a new hotel door and a couple of extra seats to LA is worth it," he smiled. "Thanks guys."

"No problem," Esposito was gruff.

"Yeah," Ryan seconded, smiling back. "Anytime."

She didn't bother to mask the gentle happiness she knew was spreading across her face and let her boys, all three of the, have this moment. They probably knew she wasn't mad at them anyway, so she might as well stop trying to pretend she wasn't. It was hard to play hard-ass when she couldn't stop herself smiling.

"So why did they think you were missing, Castle?" Ryan asked, his posture back to open, if tired, but then it was going on 2 am. She and Castle had been up pretty late the night before; late to bed, late to rise and she still felt pretty fresh. Her team members however, after adding three hours onto their day in time zones, had obviously had a tough, stressful experience tracking them down.

They looked like a mess, especially Ryan, whose hair was lank and greasy from the number of times the man must have run his fingers through it in agitation.

Despite her gratitude, she didn't know if Castle wanted to share the reason for his abrupt withdrawal from society. She looked over her shoulder, up at him and caught the hand he had at the nape of her neck, squeezing gently when the easy smile on his face turned strained.

"Long story," he shrugged. "Well not, that long, maybe. I'll tell you tomorrow." He forced a lighter tone. "If you guys are going to hang around before you catch a flight back we should meet up for breakfast or something, or if your flight is later I can take you to the studio. You can keep my agent from killing me."

Ryan and Esposito looked at each other, blinking with uneasy realisation. Maybe something to do with their plans? Maybe they didn't want to visit the studio…she wouldn't blame them.

"We, uh," Esposito looked to his partner. "We haven't booked a flight back yet actually."

"Sweet, so you can get a later one then?" Castle piped easily.

"Sure," Ryan agreed.

"So let's meet 'bout 11.30 at…wait, where are you guys staying?"

Another furtive look between the two men on the couch.

"You didn't a book a place before you got on the plane," Beckett guessed.

"That's cool. They can just get a room here." Castle shrugged like it was settled.

"No they can't," Kate corrected him.

"Why not?" All three sets of eyes settled on her.

"Because I got the last one. Didn't you guys see the 'No Vacancy' sign?"

Three mouths formed round little circles.

Yeah. Men.

"Well, the couch is a pull out," Castle started hesitantly. "It's just for a night."

"Castle," she frowned.

"It's late and they did fly all this way…" he started to pull the puppy dog eyes on her and she reached up to clap a hand over them before the effect took hold. She looked over at the other two to reluctantly volunteer their couch but the words died at the looks of shock on their face.

She became painfully aware of the easy way she was tucked into Castle's side, her hand having slid gently from his eyes to his mouth with him still in his boxers. She was in her underwear. She flushed and started to pull her hand away but Castle caught it in his and placed an absent kiss to her palm. Her heart trembled a little and the boys' jaws dropped further.

She cleared her throat. "One night," she tried to regain her dignity which had scattered under the PDA. She turned to the infuriating cause of it all and tugged him up with a hand under his arm throwing the next greeting over her shoulder. "G'Night. We're going to…"

Oh god. She couldn't say that in front of them; they'd never let her live it down.

"Bed," Castle completed helpfully, anchoring himself to her back.

The PDA didn't knock them as much this time and their surprise turned to knowing grins. She glared at them, but they just got bigger.

"Night, Mom," Esposito smirked.

"Night, Dad," Ryan waved.

"Night boys," Castle crooned back, the vibrations of it doing unfair things to her indignation. She wanted to feel angry or at least irritated and a lot embarrassed, but everything was just…light and funny and _family_.

He took her hand when her steps to follow him to the bedroom stalled under the realisation. "You coming?" he asked. Happy. He looked so happy with the banter and the support so she couldn't help but make him happy another way; their way – the back and forth.

"Not with the kids next door," she smiled too sweetly, reaching up on her toes and planting a sound kiss on his lips, startling all three men before sauntering – she knew that's what she was doing, though only for the benefit of one of them – into the bedroom.

…


	9. Chapter 9

**Standard Disclaimer.**

**Just a short one, but that's the way it split. I'm making it up to you next time. Promise .**

…

Something prickles at her awareness, but she doesn't care. She's just so warm, almost boneless and for once she doesn't even mind that it isn't black behind her eyelids but a warm hazy pink. It makes sense in her mostly asleep mind that the sun is shining when she feels this good. Her limbs feel ponderously heavy, except for one arm she can't feel at all and she wonders if that is what woke her but she doesn't want to give this feeling up yet so she squirms a little, further onto Castle to release it from under her. Before the pins and needles can keep her conscious she rests her nose to the dip under his clavicle she likes so much and lets the warmth pull her back under.

Even doped up on sleep and happiness, Kate's mind wanders through it all fairly quickly, enough that she was seriously working on sleeping again when the pulse that woke her called again.

Oh, the phone.

She pulled out of Castle's grip and fumbled on her hands and knees squinting against the light for the cell she left on one of the bedside tables. A sleepy grunt let her know in her haste she probably landed on her partner as well as just jostled him, but fumbling desperately to answer before it went to answerphone, she didn't even have time to chuckle.

She left the phone on last night when they went to bed for a reason.

"Beckett," she rasped.

"Katherine Beckett?"

Ah. They did call. Good. She let herself fall from all fours back until she sat propped against the headboard. Castle was squirming now, waking enough to snake out an arm and search for her in the bed. When his hand swept closer she gave him a nudge with her foot. He needed to be awake for this.

"Speaking."

"This is Detective McLean with the Los Angeles Police Department. According to our information, you are listed as the emergency contact for Mr Richard Castle."

"That's right. Is something wrong?" she makes herself sound concerned then at Castle's flushed, sleepy face she smiles. "He didn't get arrested again, did he?"

"No, Ma'am."

"Then how can I help you, Detective?"

"I'm sorry to be the one to inform you, but Mr Castle was reported missing late Monday night. Usually we do not allow reports to be made within the first 24hours," he apologised. Kate felt her sleepy contentment fade into something darker. This guy was on his second sentence and was already trying to cover his ass. "But we took it and waited to see if the situation was genuine."

"I see."

"Have you had any calls from anyone demanding a ransom?"

"No."

"That's a good sign."

"Detective," she started, but he steam-rollered on in his scripted notice.

"We are checking his financials, but there has been no sign he made it back to his hotel. We're going to do our best. If you hear from him, at all…"

"Detective," she strung it out into three syllables.

"Ma'am?"

"I have someone who you might like to speak to." Kate didn't wait for a reply and handed the phone off to Castle.

"Hello?" he mumbled, his fingers running up and down her shin like he was petting a cat. Oddly it made her feel better- not just lulling her irritation but making her calmer, happier. "Who am I? Um, Richard Castle? No, I'm not in New York, she's just…yeah. Oh, I kind of got caught up in research and forgot to check in with Paula, so, uh, you can call off the troops. Thanks. No, I appreciate it. If you want to call her, be my guest; I'll take a few more hours to enjoy the world of the living. Thanks. Yeah. Bye."

He dropped the phone about a second before he dropped from his propped elbows back onto his stomach with a good natured huff. Once there his hand wrapped around her ankle and tugged gently for her to come down and join him.

"You officially found again?" she relented and slipped back under the covers.

'Uh huh."

"He's going to call Paula?"

"Thank God," he groaned into the pillow. "But she's going to kill me if I don't show up today. What time is it?"

He groped under him and dragged out her cell before she could roll over to look at the alarm clock.

"Huh. Just before 7. Somebody's eager."

She shrugged. "He probably started working it earlier and waited to make the call. It's only 10 in the morning in New York."

"I don't care what time it is in New York right now. Right now I want to be asleep. I'm not as young as I used to be and four hours sleep is not enough."

"If you wanted to sleep more, you shouldn't have told me the shower drowns everything out when you joined me."

"I just joined you, you're the one who jumped me."

She remembered practically climbing him with a flush. It was not her usual style- not that he hadn't seen her that way before. But she had been pretty urgent, off balance with the thought of family and kids, their 'kids' in the room only meters away and angry that Officer Rookie – he would love the name Rook, wouldn't he?- had heard them together, even if only over the phone.

But it had been worth it. They had poured themselves into bed, steamed, sated and so mindlessly happy.

She stared him down, more than happy to show how proud she was that they were so right for each other. "That's right," she agreed boldly. "I did."

"It was great," he tried to wriggle his eyebrows, but sleep hadn't left those muscles quite yet and the drunken result made her chuckle.

"It was," she agreed. "But since I haven't heard any signs of life from out there, I could do another hour or so of sleeping. Care to join me?"

"Thought you'd never ask," he yawned and wriggled in closer.

…


	10. Chapter 10

**Standard disclaimer.**

**Warning: Gates ahead...**

…

The tank top she's wearing is thin enough to be pointless, especially with the way the sheet has worked its way down in the heat until it bunches in white wave-like ruches at her waist. Even relaxed in sleep, the lines of her body have definition, a power to the grace of skin. Had she been awake, the shadowed valleys and sunbathed crescents would have made him swallow and give her a wide berth before she kicked his ass. Asleep though they're almost artistic. The curve of her spine is revealed where the tank has ridden up; a wide, gentle hand spanning the muscles there. The line draws his eyes up away from the tangle of legs and into the long dark hair tousled across Castle's chest.

She uses him as her pillow, half snuggled in and half on top of him, one arm slung protectively over him with the fingers resting over his bare heart. If it wasn't so heart-warming, he thinks he would use it against her for a long time. Katherine Beckett is a snuggler.

Ryan isn't surprised that his friend waxes his chest but notes the writer is softer than he had always guessed. His arms are banded pretty significantly and it makes sense Beckett prefers the softer section where the arm attaches. He flinches when the man in question shifts in his sleep, turning his head on the pillow until it rests above Beckett's, his chin nuzzling her crown. He sighs contentedly and Ryan watches in fascination as Beckett unconsciously nuzzles her nose into his throat, seeking after the purr.

Guess she really likes his voice.

He catches himself actively watching them from the doorway and remembers his perusal of his boss's practically naked back and suddenly he wants to cross himself.

"I told you they wouldn't be awake yet," he told his partner.

"Can we go? I can't watch them like that, I feel like a creep watching them sleep." Esposito shudders and backs slowly away from the door. Ryan gingerly takes the doorknob and pulls it closed as he retreats back into the safety of the lounge. When the click doesn't prompt any sounds they both relax. Esposito sits heavily on the edge of the sofa bed and Ryan heads for the table.

He pushes away the roll of duct tape still there from the night before and tries not to blush at it, especially after what he had just seen – namely more of Beckett than he ever had before- even when she was undercover. Her legs might have been covered, but it oddly seemed more intimate than if she had them on display in a short dress for all to see.

He takes up the duct tape from where he shoved it to the other side of the table and blindly tosses it into the entry way. God, he hasn't thought about Beckett like that for years. When he first started at the squad, it was hard for the first month but he was a healthy male and she was gorgeous with that aroma of danger and power and that dark wit. The first time he heard her laugh he swear he stopped on the spot and the way she handled her cuffs made him blush.

He could see her using duct tape…if only to keep Castle quiet.

His eyes slammed shut and he really did invoke the saints.

"Bro," Esposito looked up at him surprised.

He only then realised the roll had connected pretty audibly with the broken front door and they both watched the bedroom door apprehensively. But it stayed silent and he huffed out a relieved breath, not sure he was ready to face the other two members of his team just yet.

"I need to get out of here, Javi."

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Yeah. Just thought maybe we should give them some privacy. Maybe come up with a game plan."

"You mean now that Castle isn't missing?" Esposito pushed to his feet and grabbed his jacket. "I could go for some breakfast." He guides his watch through the leather cuff and winces when he catches sight of the face. "Might have to be lunch unless there's an all-day breakfast place around here. Can't believe it's almost 11 already."

The thought of food cleared away the anxiety and he is more than pleased to listen to his stomach instead- and to be honest, it's not really that happy with him. Had he eaten since pizza with the Captain yesterday at lunch? If he did, it was very forgettable.

It hits him then, sitting at a table in a motel in Santa Monica, CA, that they literally followed those two crazy people across the width of America. The thought makes him laugh and his partner looks at him like he's losing it, but it just makes the smile stretch wider. He's sitting in crumpled shorts Jenny had dug out of his summer clothes storage and a T- shirt, feeling the gum residue of tape Beckett had been voluntarily taped to pulling at the hairs of his arms in Los freaking Angeles after spending the night on Beckett and Castle's couch.

"You're starting to scare me, bro."

He burps out a last chuckle and grabs up his own jacket, shaking his head at just how ridiculous this all is. Only Beckett and Castle could look so damn happy together after the last 24 hours. "Come on, I'm buying."

…

They did it so well, the back and forth, genuinely caring about the other and sharing their days. You could hear how happy they were despite being apart, laughter was frequent and it amazed the Captain. Her detective was laughing – even more than Castle. They were often just little exclamations, chuckles, and a giggle once or twice; the unrestrained sounds pulled Gate's lips up.

Mr Castle's laughter was quite arresting as well. The roll of it was unfamiliar and she was almost, almost, sad to realise she had never heard it before. She had always seen him as the joker, usually with a smirk. She had seen him serious as well which had annoyed her to no end at first.

But this was different. He wasn't trying to be funny, but she could admit privately he was and he was being serious about the everyday, not just death.

It was strangely compelling. She felt herself smiling as she listened in, chuckling once at the description of Hollywood and the set as seen by the writer as he moved from place to place trying to avoid the cast. And her detective sounded so light. She'd never heard her so free and relaxed; after the tense, silent woman in the bullpen the last week, it was nice to know she found an outlet somewhere.

She moved the mouse over to end the recording. He sounded just fine to her. This was the reason they usually asked people to wait 24hours before reporting someone missing – the person wasn't actually missing.

"-just like the ones I bought last month," Castle was saying.

"Don't you think that's a little paranoid, Castle?"

"No."

"So how would he know what boxers you have?"

"I don't know. Have you been sending the studio salacious snapshots of my wardrobe?"

Gates' ears caught the sentence and felt her eyebrows rise. She let go of the mouse, interested despite herself as to her detective's reply.

"Hardly."

Gates smiled. The detective had spunk.

"I'm telling you it's creepy. On a professional level, I can understand him following me around because he thinks I'm the model for Rook. I mean Natalie followed you, and sure it was awkward and very creepy, but she nailed the part. I think this guy took the criticisms a little hard. He wasn't _that_ bad."

"Just keep reminding yourself how much better his performance of Rook is going to be this time round. He's trying to do your work justice."

"Yeah," he sounded petulant. "But I have my limits. Next time I go to the toilet, I'm getting a stall – there are some things I'd like to keep private."

"Nice, Castle."

"Easy enough for you to say. Natalie never followed you into the stall to watch how you do your business; the way you hold your zip…and, well you know."

"He didn't," Kate laughed.

"Oh, yeah. He's an adept mimic, I'll give him that."

"Did he fall on his face as well as you did when he filmed the torture interrogation scene?"

"Oh, so you think it's funny, do you? Well, I'll have you know I look better with a nosebleed – his was fake. I did the research and got mine the hard way."

"Research, huh? I bet Natalie loved that."

"She did," he replied. He sounded vaguely uncomfortable for a beat, but ploughed on. "She wanted me to show her how I got out of Nikki's situation. She even offered to tie me to the chair personally."

"She did?" Kate sounded less than impressed.

"I declined."

The detective let out a breath. "You don't like being tied up?"

"I wouldn't say that," he replied slyly. "I'm always getting tied up with Nikki at work. For research. "

"Of course," she agreed seriously. "I know how intent you are about making everything authentic."

"Nothing but the best for my readers."

"Then you might be interested to know that I bought a new scarf this week, Castle," she sounded playful. "I think it might be useful to you- for character research."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Well, it's blue."

"What shade blue?" he interrupted. "I'm a writer, Kate. Blue means nothing to me."

"So sorry," Gates could hear the smirk in her voice. "Let me rephrase that; it's cerulean blue."

"Cerulean, huh? Not cornflower? Navy? Turquoise?"

"Cerulean," she stood by her choice in words. "Dialled back until it's soft and warm, not quite as piercing."

"Sounds nice, inspired even. I don't suppose you were thinking of any particular person when you purchased this scarf?"

"I might have," she acknowledged. Gates smiled. She knew there was something there. So far she had only called him Castle and Gates had to wonder…but it sounded like there was definitely something there.

"Is it soft?"

"Silk. Strong too. I was told you could literally swing from the chandelier with it."

"Is that person willing to stake their job, or at least the medical bills, on that claim?"

"One way to find out," Kate purred and Gates blinked. Ok. Uh.

"I'll have to get one installed," his voice had lowered and Gates' heart kicked up in panic. Oh no. They weren't actually going to…she was not. No. Just no. She reached for the mouse but it wasn't where she thought she had left it. Damn all the paper. Her hand upset her half-full mug of cold coffee and she swore, spreading the spill further in her search for the damn mouse.

His voice continued while she scrambled, looking for the device in the dim light of her office. Why hadn't she turned all her lights back on when she came back in? "As I'm sure you recall, I actually have a chandelier in the Hamptons. We can try it anytime; next weekend even. But I don't think we'll beat the time you cuffed me to the railings on the balcony. You remember, Kate? Looking out over our own private beach?"

Kate moaned and Gates literally jumped in her seat.

Castle just wouldn't shut up. "Oh yeah, you remember. The wood was cold and the wind up off the sea was freezing, I couldn't tell if I was shivering from your nails or from the cold. But the way it lifted your hair…and you were so hot I could barely…but you made me wait so long…I still remember the taste of the salt on your skin. Kate…"

They both let out frustrated, pleasured groans and she sighed out his name.

Gates flicked the switch off at the wall and stared at her screen in horror with the silence crashing down around her ears, her ears and her face on fire.

…


	11. Chapter 11

**Standard disclaimer.**

**Sorry for the late update, uni is kicking my butt...I am really glad you liked Gates in the last chapter. I feel a bit sorry for her - there's so much potential in that character.**

Kate was moving. She was still in the early stages, trying so carefully to untangle her legs from his, but it meant she put more of her weight into her arms and torso, pushing herself onto him so he could feel all the muscle groups in her back and abs firing. He only slept through the process when he was tired; a case, late night writing, or her.

He told her all the time, he didn't mind being woken - especially if it meant he could indulge in falling back asleep, but she made the same effort to slip out without disturbing him every time. At first it made him nervous but the insecurity had faded and he couldn't be anything other than touched, and amused on occasion. Neither of his wives had worried about it.

The way she still tried, even when he was pretty sure she knew he was already awake only then to reach over and slap his cheeks or tweak his nose, if he was lucky she's give him a kiss. Life with her was never boring.

"Hey," he greeted her, slowly convincing his body to aid her efforts to untwine.

"Hey," she stretched with a happy intake of air. "I think the boys just left."

"Yeah?"

She let it out on a puff of air, sinking back into the mattress. "Heard the door go. They must have forgotten it was broken and just let it slam."

"It could have been room services," he offered, thinking of the cleaning crew with their trolleys cautiously edging into the room only to find Ryan and Espo curled up on the sofa. Classic. He blinked, trying to open his eyes the full way in the light. "What time is it?"

She rolled onto her elbow and craned over him to see the bedside alarm. He can feel the second she realised because she tensed all over and he twisted his neck awkwardly to see what the problem was.

"It's after 11," she exclaimed, trying to push herself up by bracing herself against his chest. "We slept in for over three hours!"

"So? Kate, you're on holiday."

She looked down at him, adorably flustered. "I know that," she defends herself. "But that probably was the room staff. Check out or renewal was at 10."

"I think they were probably just responding to reports of a broken door. It's a good thing we had the boys as guard dogs last night."

"It's not funny, Castle."

"No. Well actually…" he grinned up at her glare. "I don't hear anyone out there. If it was motel staff they'll ring."

"I guess," she sighed and sat up. She stared out the window, but he could tell she wasn't really seeing anything, caught up on the trail of some thought that pulled her further into her mind. At least this morning seemed to be an absentminded stroll through pleasant enough vistas. He watched until she mentally shook herself and blinked.

"Time to get up?" he suggested.

"Time to get up," she confirmed, rolling easily from her cross legged position on the edge of the bed to her feet. Her footsteps were unconsciously light around the room, her figure blurry around the edges in the light, or because his eyes hadn't yet made the journey with his mind into waking. She quietly opened the door and peaked out into the lounge. "They're not here."

"They probably got bored, or hungry, or both," he pushed himself to his feet. "Before we head to the studio, I'm going to need to head back to the hotel and get some clothes. I think there's a limit to how many days you can wear the same pair of boxers."

"Probably," she agreed, pulling out a pair of jeans.

"But to be fair," he pointed out, smiling at the memories. "I wasn't wearing them most of yesterday."

She pulled her tank off and pushed it into the recesses of her bag, exchanging it for a t-shirt and made no sign that she had even heard him. He couldn't help but grin at her attempts to ignore him; she knew by now that it didn't work, but she still persisted. She probably didn't want to give him any more ammunition.

"What do you want for breakfast?" he relented, moving over to her. "You want to head to the café we went to for lunch or do you want French toast? I picked up eggs when we stopped in at the store yesterday just in case we didn't want to leave the room today," he kissed her neck.

"You wish, Casanova."

"French toast though? That's kind of brunch-like and we might as well use it up before we check out."

"As long as you're not using it as an excuse to spend time in the kitchen instead of heading into the studio," she turned in his arms and pecked him lightly on the corner of his mouth before stepping lightly away into the bathroom with her makeup case.

"I'll go and get started right away," he called after her.

Her voice floated back through the door. "Put some clothes on first."

Yeah…

…

"What kind of underwear was she wearing?" Esposito asked intently, leaning forward over the table with a square of French toast still dangling from his fingertips. Apparently the place they found served a great burger, but no breakfast after 10.30. The sight of the plate stacked high with the golden bread had drawn complaints out of both men before their feet made it anywhere near the tiled kitchenette floor.

The plate was now empty.

"Seriously?" Kate's mouth dropped a margin. What was it with men? Your friend gets assaulted by a woman in underwear and all you can ask is what brand of lingerie she was wearing?

Castle looks from one face to the other more bemused now than embarrassed after recalling his run in with the on screen Nikki Heat.

"So is that why you tied Beckett to a chair?" Ryan asked, still blinking, eyes wide as he tried to get his head around it. Natalie Rhodes in his bed and the guy ran away. Kate wondered if he knew he had jelly on the side of his mouth.

"What?"

"Pretty quick thinking, Castle," he congratulated the writer. "But illegal."

"Thank you?" Castle's head was swivelling between her face and the boys like he was watching a sporting match. She wondered if that explained the glazed, confused light in his eyes.

"I know she has a jealous streak in her," Esposito mumbled around the last mouthful of toast. "But did you really have to tie her to the chair? Just for future reference, not cool bro. If you want to tie each other up in the bedroom that's all up to you, but you try it again and we're going to have to hurt you."

"Espo!" she gasped.

He just shrugged, grinning. "It's illegal unless consensual."

"God." She dropped her head to her hand.

"Why don't you just tell Natalie you're not interested?" Ryan asked.

"I did," Castle protested, mentally reengaging.

"Did you tell her why? Like that you already have a girlfriend who you are completely, under-pain-of-death-and-dismemberment loyal to?" Esposito joined the interrogation, glaring at the writer.

"No."

"What the hell?" "Why not?" they chorused and both she and Castle winced in tandem.

"Because no one knows about that – not even Paula," Castle recovered first. "If I told Natalie, it would be on the front page the next day."

"You should just tell Gates. Get it out in the open instead of worrying about it all the time," Esposito leaned back in his chair again, taking the pressure off.

"Maybe she won't mind," Ryan added with an optimistic lift to his eyebrows. "You're not technically a cop."

"Thanks," Castle muttered.

She reached for his hand on the table and twined her fingers with his for support, even though she knew he wasn't too worried at the statement – he knew the boys didn't mean anything by it. "Enough guys," she interrupted. "We just need to deal with it and get through the week."

"No problem. We'll just be his detail until we fly out," Esposito shrugged. "We've got your back, bro."

"Yeah," Ryan agreed. "And Beckett will have…everywhere else."

…

**Enjoy that? Starting to write myself into a corner but I do have the next couple of chapters planned out.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Standard disclaimer.**

**Sorry for the wait, but here she is.**

…

"Hold my hand."

"No."

"Come on, Kate, please."

"Castle, I'm not going to hold your hand."

"Yeah, Beckett. Hold his hand," Esposito grinned and shut the back door and walked around the car to join the other three in the shade of the warehouse with the 20th precinct set. From where he stood slightly behind Castle and Beckett, Ryan saw her fist clench and shook his head frantically at his partner.

She ignored the comment however and turned to her own partner, "Where are we meeting Paula?"

"In the Producer's trailer. I texted her when we were waved in."

"Did she reply?"

"I haven't checked my phone yet."

"How do you know she got it?" Ryan asked.

"RICHARD CASTLE!"

It came from behind them. The three detectives startled badly at the irate screech but Castle immediately froze, his shoulders curling up towards his ears guiltily in anticipation of a blow.

"She found me," Castle practically whimpered.

The sound of her heels rapping over the asphalt had him considering briefly hiding behind Kate. From the stares strangers were sending at the rapidly approaching woman, it wouldn't be a bad idea. Kate was already turning to meet Paula ahead on, but he wasn't surprised; she wasn't the type to be intimidated by anyone. He wished he could say he was the same, but when it came to his publisher and his agent, the cringing was ingrained.

Not good enough.

He straightened his shoulders when he saw how unfazed Kate's posture was. He could do this, because really, what was she going to do? Yell at him? It was the old 'Sticks and Stones' job. What he was more uncomfortable with was the confrontation rather than his agent's ire, but he couldn't stay this way. He had to deal with it and be better; a man Kate Beckett deserved. No more carpet.

Esposito and Ryan turned to face her.

"Dude," Esposito muttered.

If Esposito was surprised that meant Paula had to be _really_ mad.

What was he thinking? He was a writer. Words hurt like hell. He sighed and steeled himself, shifting his weight to pivot round and watch the small woman storm up. Maybe it would help – there was no way she was scarier than the homicidal people he helped put away.

She couldn't be scarier than Kate.

He turned and got an eyeful of dark thin eyebrows fighting the pull of her severe bun, alarmingly low on her forehead and a usually vibrantly painted mouth reduced to a slash between nose and chin. At first it makes him want to gulp internally, but he was right. She isn't as scary as Kate – not even close.

It almost looks like she was trying not to cry.

The subtle rasp of skin firing against his little finger drew his attention away and he saw Kate offering him her hand. On either side of them Ryan and Esposito had drawn in, flanking them – and he had to give it to his agent; she wasn't intimidated by his bodyguards at all. Castle nudged against his partner in thanks despite feeling strong enough to stand without her support. He could do it alone, but it was so much easier with her, them, there.

He linked her pinkie through his and squeezed a little.

That squeeze compounded at the interruption of an all too familiar voice. He thought for a panicked second that he was going to dislocate her finger, but her grip on his was too painful for the digit to be compromised.

"Paula! Wait!" The voice made it out of the warehouse he knew housed Nikki's apartment set before the person it belonged to. But they both knew who that person was. About six foot of blonde with a brunette wig hustled out hot on its heels, following after Paula easily- probably less usurped detecting skills and more that missing someone like Paula on a rampage would take a special kind of ignorance.

He sucked in a breath to brace himself for the roll in his gut every thought of the woman had inspired since she let himself into his bed, but it didn't come. The only image it prompted was the couch sofa back at the motel room, how it was too short for him but had meant he could plant his feet on the wooden floors for leverage as Kate rose and rocked above him. It made her scream. Her hair was lighter, blonder than Natalie's wig and tangled under his fingers, warm and wet with sweat. Strands of it stuck to her neck pale and exposed like a target above him.

Huh. Ryan and Espo slept on that sofa last night.

Natalie Rhodes started out on Paula's path, but the agent didn't blink to show she had heard the actress. She was only feet away now.

But Natalie was persistent. "Did they find-?"

Paula came to a halt and Natalie's attention must have diverted from where she was going to where she was and why she had stopped there.

"Rick?" It wasn't audible but any of the detectives could clearly read the name Natalie expelled.

There was a gentle squeeze on his finger again, too gentle for jealousy but solid enough to be a comforting presence. Paula shot their intertwined hands a dirty look, ignoring the actress, mouth working up and down as she searched for what she wanted to say first – he had no doubt she had thought of many in the last two days.

"Hey," he offered, smiling.

He watched her swallow and blink rapidly.

"Hey," she rasped back.

Castle let Kate go and offered his arms to the agent whose face looked almost painful as she vacillated between preventing both tears and a smile. She stepped into the embrace however with a put-upon sigh and briefly tucked her nose into his neck. Her hair was hard against him with product and he felt a tremor before she relaxed.

"You're not dead," she muttered a second before she released him.

"No," he smiled.

"Good," she straightened her dress. "Now how about we go inside and go can tell me where the hell -"

A flash of incoming colour was all the warning any of them had.

"Castle," Kate cried but any air he had rushed out in shock at the impact and stayed away under the influence of adrenaline- he was falling. Oh, god, he was going to fall. He couldn't move his arms.

He couldn't breathe.

His legs stumbled back, knees struggling under the warm weight wrapped around his waist and torso. He felt his shoulders impact and he stopped stumbling. A hand was around his holding him up and preventing any further backwards motion.

"Rick!"

He blinked and let returning air supply fuel his brain. He opened his eyes again and took stock of the brunette hair wiry against his face. The shade was wrong, the scent was wrong and it was too heavy to be Kate.

"Natalie?" he coughed.

He got a nod against his collarbone, but that was all. There were no signs she was going anywhere. He craned his neck back and noted it was Ryan and Esposito on either side that had saved him from falling straight back. He felt the hand around his slip away and he turned to watch Kate take a step back, her face flushed and her eyes wide in alarm.

Apparently he wasn't the only one who saw him about to crack his head open on a LA parking lot- cause of death accelerated by the weight of one Natalie Rhodes. And she wasn't light, jeez. It wasn't getting much easier to breathe either. Did she research pythons at some point?

"Uh, Natalie?" He used the hand Kate had liberated to tap her shoulder. "Would you mind?"

Get off me.

She slowly let her legs fall away from his hips and lowered herself back to the pavement. Though she kept herself close by leaving her arms around his shoulders, she didn't take advantage of the proximity as she slid down and he felt the last remaining anxiety fall away.

He could do this.

As soon as he felt her leave him completely he stepped back and sandwiched himself in between Ryan and Esposito as an extra measure of prevention. He tried to unobtrusively straighten out his jacket. He didn't know why he tried to make it covert when most of the eyes in their circle were on him. Kate moved protectively in front of him when the actress swayed towards him again, falling on the proverbial sword and drawing the attention away from him.

"Paula, did you tell Castle that there was a trailer somewhere we could use?"

…

**R&R?**


	13. Chapter 13

**Standard Disclaimer.**

**Thanks for the reviews, I'm glad you liked Natalie. I'll try and keep this coming for ya, your comments make me want to write some truly awkward situations - I just to think of them first.**

"Research?" Paula repeated flatly.

He was trying for innocent, but it was too contrived on his face and his body was too sharp to play it. But she understood. What was he supposed to say when Natalie was sitting right there, staring at him? The actress hadn't let go of him yet.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I got really caught up- even let my phone go dead."

"And what exactly were you researching?" Kate didn't miss the suspicious look Paula shot her way.

"It might be nothing," he hedged. "I'd have to talk to Gina about it first. Setting one of the Heat novels here in LA? You know how particular she can be."

Paula didn't look convinced. "Next time try telling us before you decide to disappear off the face of the earth."

Kate seconded that. "We're not flying out here to find you again next time you go incommunicado," she warned. She knew that Castle knew better – of course she would, but hopefully it would encourage Paula to ease off the knowing looks she was sending her and her partner.

Natalie's thumb was tracing at the bones of Castle's hand. Between that and Paula she was having trouble appearing that she was just worried about her partner. Having to say she wouldn't be there for him next time. Not being able to tell Natalie to let Castle ago and back the hell away.

"Understood," he agreed, picking up their 'just partners' attitude.

"And when did you arrive, Detective?" Paula's implications behind the title and her clear doubt the trip was professionally motivated were very clear.

"We flew in yesterday afternoon," Ryan volunteered, bristling at the connotations.

"And managed to find him before Detective McLean called Detective Beckett this morning," Paula observed mildly. "The NYPD sure has stepped up its game. No wonder Ricky here doesn't want to leave the force; he said you were something special."

"He called," Beckett said shortly.

Paula's eyebrows rose sarcastically. "Well that makes you very special."

Castle stiffened beside her in a direct counterpoint to the other men who swayed slightly on the spot, rocking forward in indignation like they wanted to move to screen heir friend. That was low. No matter how colourful his past got, he always genuinely cared for the women he got involved with even if it was enough to call to make sure they were alright or put them in a taxi after a solid breakfast the next morning.

But that was all a lifetime ago.

Natalie didn't pick up on Paula's meaning and Kate was glad he had controlled his body enough not to crush Natalie's hand and give himself away. "That's what I've been telling everyone," the actress exclaimed. "The way these guys work together is amazing. The other guys on set just don't get the _connection, _you know? The bond and the cooperation."

"And you're absolutely right," Castle agreed giving her a winning smile though his eyes were still tight. "Why don't you take Ryan and Esposito and introduce them to Roach? Those two have been asking about their real-life inspirations since I arrived."

"You sure?" Natalie sounded surprised. Even a little reluctant.

"Yeah." He slid his hand from Natalie's and Kate hoped the relief lightening her chest wasn't as transparent to everyone in the room as she thought. "We'll finish up over here and we can have a meeting of the 12th and the 20th precincts." He managed a smile. "Go and brief your squad, Detective Heat."

She shot him an inviting look. "Yes, Sir."

Kate's fists were so tight her knuckles popped.

…

"Okay," Paula crossed her arms and rolled her weight onto one shiny pump. The door had only just latched shut. "Tell me what the hell is actually going on. What is she doing here?"

"_I_ got a call from LAPD Tuesday morning to say he was missing," Kate pulled her tone before it became openly accusing but the words were still clipped. "What do you think I'm doing?"

"Congratulations, honey. You found him."

"Paula, stop it," Castle kept his voice even. Trailers were hardly sound proof but he felt like shouting himself. Beckett was pissed on his behalf and Paula was taking this whole thing out on her.

"You dropped off the face of the planet," she shot back.

"I've already explained that. If it caused that much of a problem here, I'm willing to stay longer and work with the studio."

"You mean your 'research'?" It was abundantly apparent what sort of research she thought he had been conducting since Tuesday.

He saw Kate open her mouth angrily but for once, he was done making excuses. "Yeah, that is exactly what you are going to say I was doing. Otherwise you can tell the press and the studio that I had to go underground to stop Natalie Rhodes letting herself into my bed."

"Letting herself in to your bed?" Paula repeated. "That's why you left? Rick, you should be escorting her there on a frickin' red carpet. Stop playing hard to get."

"Paula, how many times do I have to tell you? I am not going to sleep with her."

"You've been out of your skin distracted all week – people think there's something wrong with you. This is your career. She is playing Nikki Heat."

"Sleeping with me has nothing to do with her job. She's not going to walk out on the role because I kicked her out."

"You need the press! You've practically been a hermit since you ended it with Gina. Take her out to dinner and let her get you out of her system then you can go back to playing cops and robbers at home."

Castle let his eyes drift closed and mentally recited his favourite excerpt from _The Raven_ more to control the hurt than the anger. Paula didn't have much to do with the work he did at the 12th- didn't even see it as work. She had admitted it was good press at the beginning, but now it was old news. He thought she at least realised that he thought of it as a job, something worth doing and not just some fantastical game of cops and robbers.

"No," he said evenly, staring her down.

She sighed, backing off just enough for him to see she regretted her last comment. "You sure it's worth it?"

"I've played the media clown and I don't owe them anything. I don't need them. If I never sold another copy, I wouldn't need them- not for the way I want to live my life." He saw her start to object and continued. "But I am going to keep writing. My books will sell but they're going to sell on skill and loyalty, not on scandal."

"Rick," she shook her head. "You're living in a dream world. You're Richard Castle: Best-selling Author. I know you're more cop these days, but you will always be famous. You might want to be just another member of Joe Public until you release a new book, but that's not the way it works. I can't keep the press away forever. For them you are already in a scandal."

"How long?" Kate spoke for the first time.

"How long what?" Paula just sounded weary.

"How long have you known we were together?"

Paula dropped her hip onto the edge of the makeup table. "From the start."

"From the start?" Castle repeated dumbly. "How? We were careful."

"You don't give the point and shoot pap enough credit," she drawled. "You kept it low key: no flashy date nights, limited PDA…but it wasn't exactly hard to figure out. If you could see the two of you in the photos – you'd have to be blind. Especially in the summer. Did you spend every day together? They're not stupid – spending all your time off together? That is not just shadowing her." Paula threw her hands up in frustration.

"How bad?" he asked evenly.

"I have enough candid shots of you two to bury a body- I almost needed to a few times. But only a couple required a little blackmailing to keep quiet. Apparently, you're not the only one who can get a little handsy."

Kate blushed.

"But there are only so many promises I can make, Richard. I'm out of bargaining chips and they're sitting on a huge story. There's nothing I can promise that beats a career making story like this."

"Fine," Kate shrugged.

"Kate," Castle protested lowly. Paula was right, it wasn't going to be as easy as that. As much as he wanted the world to know about them, he knew how important their work was to her. There had to be another way.

"Were you intending for us to break up in the near future?" Kate asked and the self-assured way she delivered it, absolutely confident of his answer – no. Of course no - made his heart trip a little faster for a few seconds. Riding on some chemical. Not adrenaline. No. He wasn't distressed at all because she wasn't running. She was ready to _do_ this. Endorphins maybe?

He shook his head, still trying to get his head around it. No, no breaking up. Not a chance in hell.

"Right," Kate asserted, still so calm. "I think it's pretty clear that this is going to be a long term thing. I'm not going to spend the rest of…however long…lying about us. I don't like that our love-life has to be a matter of public record, but I knew when we started this that it would be. I'm sure as hell not going to stand by and watch you parade girls around on your arm to get the paparazzi off our back. You want publicity? We'll go to a gala or an opening together. You can take me out to dinner at Le Circe."

She stopped to take in a breath. Paula looked like she was considering agreeing for the first time.

"You two as an official item will be more than enough fodder for a while," she nodded crisply. "We can make a statement tomorrow- release it to the studio so it gets around and then you'll have to do an official -"

"But not yet," Kate interrupted.

"What?" Paula demanded.

"Because I, _we, _need to tell Captain Gates. There is a policy about partners in the field becoming romantically involved – it's the reason we've kept it a secret so far. We're counting on Castle technically not being NYPD, but if Gates hears about us second hand through the news there is no way in hell she would let Castle stay."

"He's not going to be able to stay forever, Detective," Paula reminded her. "The contract was for three more books after_ Heat Wave_ – with _Frozen Heat_, that contract is expired. Why do you think I'm pushing these movies? _Frozen Heat_ may have been the last of Nikki Heat and until Rick here gets another contract they'll be all the income he sees. I know the Brits are still looking for the next Bond author."

"We'll think of something," Castle said as firmly as he could, trying to ignore the tightening in his gut at the reminder of his limited time left with the NYPD. Beside him, Kate had lost a few shades in her face and he cursed Paula's lack of diplomacy. She just didn't get how important partners were within the NYPD; it wasn't just like losing an assistant or a colleague in the office next door.

It was family.

"And Gates had been good to us," Castle admitted, thinking of their new aunt of the precinct. "She deserves to hear it from us."

Paula had cooled down enough to acknowledge the warning he sent her with his eyes and settled to talk of arrangements. "So how long are we talking here?" she asked wearily.

"Just until we get back to New York," Kate was quiet. "We'll talk to the Captain as soon as we get back. I'll brief her when I return to duty." She took his hand firmly. "Was there anything else?" she asked the agent.

"No. I'm sure we can keep this thing under wraps for a few more days," Paula looked borderline appeased.

"Then I have one more I'd like to add," he felt the tremble of Kate's fingers in his despite her unruffled appearance. "As Kate said, 'we' are an 'us' and have every intention of staying that way so if you think anything happens to me, if you think I'm missing, you call Kate straight away. You call her before the police. She shouldn't have had to wait for the LAPD to contact her if you knew we were together. Even if we weren't, she should have been the first to know."

Paula's face was a mask.

"As you wish."

…


	14. Chapter 14

**Standard Disclaimer. **

**You guys are awesome.**

**I officially have no idea where this story is going. **

**Enjoy ;)**

The soft pull on a lock of hair from behind drew her eyes from the Real Roach Convention taking place in the pseudo break room – her team showing their fictional counterparts their draw. The break room that had much better coffee than she remembered their break room having until Castle rectified the situation. Remembering how she had even attempted to boycott it made her smile- the first genuine smile she had let on her face for hours. The polite one had been stitched in place painfully, pulling every time she turned around and saw Natalie touching her boyfriend. Smoothing his shirt, brushing back his hair, holding his hand.

All she could think was it was so wrong – even for Natalie. This is not a Nikki act – Nikki didn't do the stolen touches thing. She must have actually missed Castle, worried even. That must be why she was so clingy. And Castle was always so careful in shrugging her off. Being the nice guy – because he was. A nice guy.

Her guy.

The tug on her hair got stronger and she turned with a pleased smile. Finally. He must have escaped. "Hey."

"It's longer."

She froze and felt the smile warp a little. "I'm sorry?"

The fingers didn't remove themselves and they weren't the ones she expected to find.

"Your hair," she was met with a wide smile too perfect to be anything more than expensive veneers. "It has to be almost five inches longer. Detective Beckett, I've been waiting to make your acquaintance."

He didn't bother to introduce himself, but she knew who he was. Everyone on the set and a considerable percentage of the country- if not the world- knew who he was. With just over twenty films accredited to him, Ben Rhys had a face known across generations – and he was only in his thirties.

"Nice to meet you," she offered her hand in hopes of re-establishing a little personal space.

He took it readily, still beaming away and brought it to his lips. The stubble grated but his lips were warm, if not a little wet and he held them there while he looked up over her knuckles at her. The studio had gone for a more rugged look for _Naked Heat_ with the stubble, but his hair – or maybe it was a wig, how would she know?- was arranged in layers just like Castle's. The blazer he wore was damn near identical to the one she loved most on her boyfriend.-

She retook possession of her hand.

"The pleasure is all mine," he assured her, straightening. "Now I can see why Rick based a character after you so he could follow you around every day."

Awkward. What was she supposed to say to that? It wasn't like he was wrong…per se. Castle's original intentions had been less than subtle and hardly as pure as he made them out to be. Everyone knew it. She sure as hell knew it but there was already something there…a draw and angle working with him had that she had never managed with a partner before. And he was her favourite author.

Kate decided avoiding that answer was probably the best option. Even she couldn't find a response that would make Rick look anything like a stalker. "I hear you've been doing a little shadowing of your own."

Ben Rhys looked inordinately proud of himself, puffing out his chest a little in the same manor she had seen Castle preen countless times. "Rick and I have been spending a little time together," he admitted modestly.

Little, she scoffed internally. The guy had been breathing over Castle's shoulder all week.

"Nothing like the experience Natalie had with the two of you when she was in New York, of course," he qualified. "But I have a feeling that this time around no critic will be able to accuse Rook of being lacking in dimension."

"I see," she hummed and recalled the scenes from _Heat Wave _where there was a painful discrepancy in the acting ability. Natalie had nailed the character. Ben, despite his experience, was obviously struggling to achieve the balance Rook required – mouthy, smart, cheeky, manly, childish, and leading without being dominant. He came off as a jerk – too forward, or as the stereotypical Clark Kent introverted reporter.

Without spending time with Castle (or reading the book- which Ben Rhys had not), it was hard to understand how the contrasting elements could abide in one person. Castle was really something.

"I can't wait for the release so I can see for myself," she added, trying not to freeze him out if she was going to be interacting with him for the rest of the week.

He pounced on her return.

"I didn't see you at the _Heat Wave _premier," he noted, beaming away. "After Natalie and I missed you on set, we were looking forward to seeing you. Natalie said the two of you together is one of the most amazing things she's seen."

Right. The premiere was back when she was fresh back to the precinct and trying to forget she had just spent three months recovering from a near-fatal injury. Castle hadn't even asked. He just told her he would be away for a few days and then he was gone and she spent the time keeping herself in check.

She didn't want to think now in retrospect how walking down the red carpet with her scars carefully covered and flashing bulbs erupting around her amongst the din would probably have killed her. Or close.

"I seem to recall you were a very busy man that night, Ben," Castle's voice lofted over her shoulder and felt the tight line of her shoulders release a little under the smooth sound. Damn it, she scolded herself. She was still so needy about that time; still caught herself curling in like it would be impossible to stand tall and straight again. Ruthlessly she straightened her spine and smiled back at her partner, thankful his intervention had pulled her out of the memory.

Usually she was fine with them and had been for quite some time now, but they came back to her when she was off balance. This whole city was conspiring to throw her off.

Castle stood out of leaning distance, though she could still take his hand if she wanted. Not as a life raft or to distract herself, but just to accept the support and comfort he offered. She let pride that she was able to see it that way ease the sting of the recollection.

"I see you've met my shadow," Castle smiled back at her, laying his hand at an acceptable height on her back. She leaned back into the contact, not fooled. Despite the innocence of the contact, it was possessive – and kind of cute.

"I have," she granted.

"And what do you think?"

"I'm reserving judgement," she said blandly, her smile polite enough to include the actor watching intently.

"Waiting for evidence?" he suggested, lips twitching.

"Mmmm," she hummed knowing he would interpret it the way she intended.

"Well, Natalie has just been updating me on the past few days of shooting," he directed this at Ben Rhys. "Sounds like you've got most of the footage from Rook's loft and you'll be moving onto Nikki's apartment scenes this week before you head out to location spots."

"Yeah, everyone has been gearing up for it all week. After all the conflict scenes from the last month at the loft and the dialogue from the precinct we're all ready for some romance. I know Natalie is really focused on it."

"She did mention the efforts she was putting into getting it right," Castle smiled, his fingers tightening against her skin. Like obtaining a spare card key to Castle's room and climbing into bed with him. For a second she could only picture how tight his face had been when he told her – like he expected to be punished and she wished that she could hold his hand. She had been watching him for signs of distress around the actress, but he seemed relatively calm. Gun-shy, but not freaking out.

"About that," Ben broke her thought. "Can I talk to you for a minute, Rick?"

"Of course."

"In private." Ben sent her a crooked smile. It wasn't nearly as attractive on him as it was on Castle. "If your muse doesn't mind."

"Oh no, go ahead," she began to step away but Castle caught her hand, stalling her escape and pulled her back into his side in an exaggerated show of jovial camaraderie.

"She's my partner, so anything you have to say, let it on out. She'll find out about it anyway; she's a hell of an interrogator."

"So I've heard." The light in his eyes as he looked over her was leery.

"What can I do for you, Ben?" Castle's voice wasn't as friendly as it had been a beat ago and she smiled. Not just her then, Castle had issues as well.

"I just wanted to get your feeling on a scene."

She felt him relax behind her. Safe topic.

"Right," he encouraged seriously and she imagined him briefly with glasses over a big desk, maybe with a dignified short beard imparting his knowledge to students. He would make a good teacher.

"You would know from her time over in New York with the two of you that Natalie is a method actor. Or actress," he corrected himself. "She gets into her character's head until the whole thing is second nature to her and she never breaks character when she's on set. She boxes away Natalie and puts her in storage for hours."

"I have heard she's very intent on her research," Kate offered, inwardly cringing at the memories, recent on Castle's behalf and on behalf of the tense week she spent with an extra identity-thief of a shadow.

"Living in a crawl space for that long? I couldn't do it," Castle agreed.

"That's what I'm talking about," the actor was suddenly leaning into their space. "That's not the way I work. I read a script and the voice speaks to me, but your boy Rook is trying to pull me in two directions. Spending time with you the last couple of days had helped settle it."

"That's good to hear."

"But I still don't _get_ him. Him and Nikki. I talked to the screenwriters and they just can't help me and I don't have any more time so I figure, why not? Right?"

"Okay," Castle sounded a little lost.

"I'm not usually one to try it, but the scene is tomorrow."

"Try what?" he sounded a little wary.

"Her method. I just wanted to ask you first – Natalie swears that you two have something going on."

"Who? Natalie and I?" Castle shook his head violently. "No. Absolutely not."

"No, you and your partner here." Ben smiled at them, managing not to pick up on the fixed looks he was getting. She felt a little sick. The foreboding was souring her mouth and setting her gut against her. "I asked your agent, and she said you were single."

"Who me?" Castle asked weakly. "Single? Yeah. Bachelor."

"Great," he beamed, relief leaking off him like radiation. "I really appreciate the help you've given me this week, so I thought I'd make sure it was cool with you first."

"Cool with what?"

"Taking this lovely lady to dinner," Ben offered her his hand again. "Just talking with her I can see it. I can see why Rook would be so attracted to her. There's something there. Just give me a night and I'm pretty sure I would never have to wonder about the relationship again and I would finally see why Rook does the crazy things he does. I know it took Nat a week but I know I can make one night work. The scene tomorrow will be so much easier."

"A night with Beckett?"

She was going to be sick. He sounded like he was going to be sick.

"Well, Detective," Ben tried out a Castle eyebrow wriggle. "What do you say?"

"Uh, I'm flattered," she blinked.

"Excellent," he took her hand and dragged it towards his mouth again.

She freed it. "But I am not single." Ben's face froze. "I'm involved. Very involved."

She heard Castle's breath catch behind her and felt a swell of pride under everything storming her gates. She could do that to him with just a few words.

"Is that so? A pity," he collected himself quickly. "There's nothing with wrong with taking a beautiful woman out to dinner though, is there?" He may not have such a silver tongue when going impromptu but he could think on his feet.

"Sorry," she wasn't sorry at all. "Plans."

"Ah," his face went very even with his Plan B shot down. Maybe he wasn't as mentally agile as she thought – maybe he'd never had to come up with a Plan C because no woman said no. Twice.

Poor Castle could practically use the number of times he's been rejected as registration plates on his car – and she actually liked him. Ben Rhys was going to have to try damn harder than just a Plan B.

"Sorry we couldn't be of more help," Castle made facetious sound far too innocent.

…


	15. Chapter 15

**Standard disclaimer. **

**Sorry for the late update!**

When the knock came on the door that night, Castle made sure to use the peephole before he considered opening it. On the other side Beckett stood oddly distorted in the warped glass, looking up the hall towards the elevator like a teenager trying to avoid being caught sneaking into a boy's room. The thought made him smile and gave him the energy to pull open the door and let her in.

She was carrying a small bundle of fabric under her arm. Pyjamas probably. Who knew who would be walking or letting themselves in. Didn't locked doors stand for anything these days?

"Hey," she sighed when the door was closed but they made no move to shift from the entry. Her fingers automatically went to her hair, running through the locks unconsciously in a move she probably found soothing despite the way it made her look on edge to others.

He liked the way it made her curls a little wild.

"Hey," he stopped her hand and pulled her into a hug. There was a second of resistance and he heard the fabric bundle drop to the floor before she melted into him, too tired to raise her arms and so settled for wrapping them around the shelf of his hips.

"I feel like I've been closeted in with IA all day," she muttered. "Your day job sucks."

He felt a bit like that too. But she made it better by being here now.

"You are my day job."

"Well then," she pulled away. "They should pay you more for these extra business trips of yours,"

"Agreed. Bed?"

"Please," she stooped to collect the bundle which he now saw had her make up kit and hairbrush stuffed into the middle. She noticed his preoccupation. "Just in case," she explained. "Couple of days ago, you told me over the phone there was no privacy here, so I brought everything I need to look presentable."

"Smart move."

"I was just hoping not to get shoved in the closet."

"I'll try not to. Besides, I put the chain across so even if Natalie uses the extra key card she purloined, she won't get in. Plus I made a friend down in hotel security and he's going to text me a heads up if anyone other than Paula or the boys stop at our rooms."

"Good, because I feel like I could sleep a good ten hours, easy." She pulled her shirt over her head and sat down heavily on the bed to release her feet from their stilted prisons. "What's that door?" she asked when she had lined the shoes neatly facing under the bed and got a glance of bronze door handle out the corner of her eye.

"Adjoining rooms," he explained absently from the other side of the bed where he had begun to mirror her, their nightly routine as automatic as breathing.

"It's not Natalie is it?"

"Ryan and Esposito - it's a twin suite. I think Paula did it just to be spiteful – instead of making this easier on us she made me share a room with the guys. I think she wants us to get caught sneaking across the hall."

"That's petty and would actually just cause her a lot more trouble than satisfaction."

"Oh, Paula can be petty, believe me."

She slipped under the covers with a sigh. "I'm sure she can, but she cares about you."

"Like a flea cares about the dog it lives on."

"Now who's being petty?" she readjusted until she was comfortable and watched him unlatch his watch and place it on the nightstand before he joined her.

"Fine," he huffed, sliding over. "It was petty, but all my professional relationships are. Except at the precinct 'course. No one at Black Pawn would fly across the country to find me; they'd just fly to handle the media."

"Castle, why didn't you say anything about the media?"

"I told you last September she had been haranguing me to promote _Frozen Heat,_" he settled onto his back. "But I didn't know it was that serious. I just thought she was grumpy I've been shirking. Well not shirking as a writer. Sure, I write, but that's Gina's concern. The only promotional work I've done for a while has been the interview with Cristina Coterra. And book signings, of course."

"And that's not enough?" she guessed.

"It's enough for Patterson, but then he's not the bad boy play boy of mystery writing. He's the serious, committed, brooding one."

"So we'll go out – have a fancy dinner or go to one of your fundraisers. But you know I still could have gone with you even if it would have been as your friend – to the press. It wouldn't be the first time we've done it."

"It's beside the point now."

She rose up and supported herself on her shoulders, looking down at him with a slight frown at his dismissal. "What?"

"What?" he returned.

"You don't think I would have said yes if you asked me?" she challenged, oddly hurt.

"No," he assured her, catching a trailing strand of hair. "I didn't doubt you would have said yes."

"But you never asked," she observed. "Are you really ashamed to be seen in public with me?"

"Wouldn't you be?" His agreement cut all the more because she had finally stopped listening to the snide part of her that doubted. Right now it mocked that she had actually thought he was going to hastily deny her claim.

"What?" she managed, though the request for clarification sliced venomously on the way out. What was she thinking, asking for him to spell out the fact he saw her as a dirty little secret?

"We would never work as friends in public anymore," he was serious. Too serious. "All dressed up in front of cameras? The slinky dress I know you'd pick out and the men who would stare at it? We'd have been made in five minutes, tops." His grip on her hair was growing persistent and edging towards painful. Oddly enough it halted the hurt of his earlier words and let her focus on his words before she went into a loop in her head. "I didn't ask you because there's no going back now, Kate Beckett. No more just friends. The precinct is hard enough and I can't see your skin there."

She was feeling faint. The picture he painted…he was right. It pumped through her veins and settled her rolling stomach but started cramping all her other muscles groups. He was right. She would have picked a dress just to see his mouth drop and his eyes pop and then blow out to black. He'd be in a tux and she knew from Ryan and Jenny's wedding that the classic look on him did things to her she would not have been able to curb if he looked at her the way she knew he would.

He's right. They'd never make the whole night undetected.

"The things I would want to do to you," he spoke against her neck and her nails dug into his scalp without her permission. "I don't want to do out in public. I like date nights where I can take you home whenever I want, kiss you whenever I want. Wherever I want."

"You're right," she swallowed. "In public…two friends doing that would…be embarrassing."

"But as soon as Gates knows you're mine," he practically growled the words into her chest where his mouth hovered at the dip under her clavicle. "I'm going to take you out and make sure every Y chromosome on the planet knows it. Starting with Ben Rhys."

…


	16. Chapter 16

**Standard Disclaimer.**

**Thanks for the reviews! You guys are dedicated! Also to the reviews from new readers, arigatou. **

…

The light was genuinely painful even though his eyes were so narrow, he doubted much of the light was actually reaching his retinas. This better be good. With his thumb he entered his passcode, not bothering to disinter his arm from its burrow under Kate's pillow.

**2.30am.**

**1 new text message. **

"Castle?" Her voice floated over his shoulder weakly, barely conscious, just confused and needy. She always woke when he moved away and he loved the mutual snuggling back together again. It had cost his air con bill to skyrocket in the summer, but it was so worth the nights with her close.

"Text," he rasped out an explanation, licking his lips and feeling cracks from dehydration. His eyes were starting to adjust to the light from his screen now and he pulled up the message.

"Who'zít?" she stirred and pushed herself up so she could read over his shoulder. He shrugged an answer and craned his neck to kiss her cheekbone just below her eye which was drawn almost closed against the light. It took double the time for the synapses to fire after that when he turned his attention back to his cell screen and register the name was his man in the security team.

_[Mr Rhys incoming. He's in the elevator bound for your floor.] _

You're kidding.

"Kate," he hissed, pulling away from her and scrambling out of the bed. "Get up!"

"What?"

"Up," he repeated. "Rhys is in the elevator."

"So?" she was still sleep mussed and slow. It was cute, and tempting, but right now it was so not helping, because he really needed her to wake up and get out of his bed. They are in so much trouble…

"So, I don't think he's here to see Ryan and Esposito," he explained hastily, squinting through the dark for the provisions she brought with her. There can't be any evidence. "What do you think he's going to do when he knocks on your door and you don't answer?"

She was throwing back the cover already. "My door? Maybe he's here to see you."

"Found them!" He thrust her bundle of clothes and cosmetics at her. "Sure. He wants to watch how I sleep at 2.30 in the morning. Go through the adjoining door into the guy's room. I'll distract Rhys, get him in here and then you make a break for your room."

"You have to be joking."

"Trust me," he began pushing her towards the door. She huffed but moved willingly enough, indulging him. "You just can't say no to these people. You know what happened when I tried."

…

He still had one hand fighting to push through the sleeve of the gown, his efforts hampered because the majority of his attention was focused on trying to get the damn lock to _move_. He needed to intercept Rhys before he started knocking on Kate's door. From the depth of the bedroom he heard a faint click which he hoped signalled Kate closing the adjoining door into the next suite.

…

"Have you been drinking?" Castle can't help but ask the question after the none-too-quiet greeting his on screen counterpart had given him just outside the door to his suite. Man hug. The fumes had almost knocked Castle on his ass.

"A little," Rhys nodded contentedly. At least he didn't sound as drunk as he smelt – just a little sleepy, relaxed. The guy was swaying slightly on his feet but it had a rhythm, matching the throaty hum he let out in odd notes every few blinks. The guy had a reputation on set for being a ladies man, but Castle had never heard rumours, even in the gossip rags, of the man being a drunk. "You know, when he was working on his character for Sherlock Holmes, a buddy of mine said it helped him loosen up and get into the character's mind. Did you know Sherlock was a junkie?"

"I did," Castle confessed. "At the time, the use was considered medicinal."

"Huh. He never told me that."

Great.

"That's too bad," Castle sympathised. His face felt a little stiff with the restraint he was using in not staring at the next door in the corridor where he hoped his girlfriend was. He felt his eyes beginning to drift and he ruthlessly dragged them back to focus on the actor. Distraction. He was supposed to be distracting him.

Ben gave a little cough, expelling whisky fumes in a small cloud on the air between them.

"So," Castle asked. "You're drinking because you see Rook as a drinker and want to…understand him better? Like Sherlock?"

"Nope. I haven't had any tequila all night. The script said tequila, but I'm a whisky kind of guy," Rhys disagreed merrily, smiling until he registered for the first time that the other man is in a robe and hotel slippers. "Where you going?"

Castle deliberately kept his eyes away from Ryan and Esposito's door which almost imperceptibly cracked open. "I was just, uh, getting some ice."

"You wanted a drink too?"

"Yeah," Castle inwardly compiled a list of reasons why. "I would love a drink."

"Haven't you heard of room service?" Rhys frowned.

"Couldn't sleep," Castle shrugged tightly, remembering pushing Kate through the door into Ryan's room. Why couldn't he still be asleep – with Kate – the way their Irish partner probably was? Had Ryan woken up yet with an intruder sneaking through his room? He better not shoot her…

"You too?" Rhys sounded amazed at the coincidence. "I just can't get tomorrow's scene out of my head. I asked Natalie if she wanted to have a trial run and she shot me down. People just don't understand what it's like, working with someone like that. She gets all the credit, and no one cares that you're doing all the work. Rook is a complex character and they just don't understand how hard it is to really get inside him."

"Well," Castle eyed him warily, alarmed at how much like a petulant child the actor sounded. It might be the alcohol, but he sounded a lot like Meredith used to – probably still did – when she didn't get a part. "Why don't you come in and we can maybe talk about it a little?"

"That sounds great," the actor beamed. "We could even get Kate over and we can run lines."

The door she was hiding behind only meters away shivered.

"It's almost three," Castle tried to look apologetic. "She _should_ be sleeping, and trust me, you don't want to wake Kate up."

"Why? Does she look bad?" He was clearly trying to picture the detective first thing in the morning. The slight frown made Castle shudder to think just how much mental energy the man was dedicating to the task. He licked his lips, eyes unfocused and Castle had to wonder what had happened to the action star he always thought would be so cool and suave in real life. Yeah right. The guy was a hound dog. Insecure to boot.

"I wouldn't know," Castle lied and forcing out as light a tone as he could manage between his teeth. "But just let me tell you she is not happy when she calls me with an early body drop."

"Grumpy?" Rhys asked slowly.

"Fiendish until she gets her coffee."

"Probably hot with bedhead," Rhys murmured to himself.

"Well come on in," Castle offered broadly, internally cringing. "I think we could drink to that."

Castle could feel Kate's stare through the door. She probably had her eyebrows flying high at the encouragement he was offering the actor to mentally ogle her – especially after his possessiveness earlier in the night. But he would toast all the parts of her body with the actor if it meant she got back to her room safely and didn't have to hear it.

The actor happily moved and the brunette head emerged from the door down the hall. The door swung slowly in and her bare shoulders began to edge their way out, her bundle of possessions clutched to her chest.

Rhys was on the threshold to the suite when he stopped and favoured Castle with a puzzled frown. Kate froze.

"Weren't you going to get ice?" Rhys blinked.

She looked at him frantically, jerking her chin towards the actor. He guiltily jumped before Rhys could wonder what he was looking at and with a firm hand on the younger man's shoulder propelled him through the door.

"Right, but you know, I was thinking today's going to be rocky enough..."

…

Kate snuck across the carpet in bare feet, shoes sandwiched in between her chest and her change of clothes, trying to shake out the key card to her room and make sure the door to Esposito's and Ryan's suite didn't slam and wake them. Because that would just be perfect, her team witnessing her walk of shame in her jammies.

She waited until Castle was done herding Ben Rhys inside before she darted across the hall. She might have only been able to see the back of her partner's robe, but she could still hear the intoxicated actor.

"So did Kate turn you down too?"

"Nah," Castle scoffed. "She knows if I found her in my bed right now, I'd kick her out."

"Man," Rhys expelled, sounding awed. "Seriously?"

Castle reached behind him to quickly shut his door, his gaze apologetic before it was hidden away.

"Yeah. Seriously," Kate grumbled.

…

**Catch ya next week :)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Standard disclaimer.**

**Where has my life gone? Seriously...study. Study and more study. Okay, that off my chest, here's another chapter for you. A bit longer as a thank you for all the people who review and read but I never have time to reply to. **

"I take it everything is in order," their Captain's crisp voice greeted them. "That would explain why you felt the need to ring me first thing in the morning – to tell me both of you weren't going to be back at work today."

Ryan and Esposito looked at each other uneasily over the speaker.

"I wouldn't be incorrect, would I, Detectives?"

"About that?" Esposito started.

"We might need another day or two," Ryan backed him up uneasily.

"Is that right?"

"We've come up against a situation here, Sir."

The pause was brief. "Am I to understand you are both asking for another two days of Personal Leave?" she asked, ignoring the opening to ask exactly where they were – not that it mattered: when that article and picture went national and viral, Gates would know exactly where they all were- if she didn't suspect already.

"Yes, Sir."

"Well then, I suggest you try and deal with your situation and I'll see you both back at work after the weekend. Hopefully with Detective Beckett."

"Thank you, Sir," they both answered, shooting each other relieved glances, but they were talking to dead air.

Over an hour ago they had been startled out of their banquet of room service breakfast specialties and a call to Lanie by pounding out in the hall. They had been met with the sight of Paula Haas alternately stabbing the bell of Castle's room and crossing the hall to pound on Beckett's door. On one of her spins to head back across the corridor she caught them staring openly from the doorway to their rooms and before they could do anything more than start guiltily she was marching over towards them.

"Get out of my way," she grated and they parted silently. She bypassed the full table of food and marched into Ryan's room aiming straight for the door that connected through to Castle's room. She snatched it open from their side and swiped a card to throw open the other.

She gave the messy bed a cursory look and continued on to the main room like magnet to metal.

They followed uneasily.

"Where are they?" Ryan muttered under his breath.

Esposito shrugged, noting Castle's cell phone on the table. He stepped over to the far side of the room to check the ensuite, but found no one. The mirrors were clear but the walls of the shower were still beaded though the glass under the droplets was cold to the touch. He didn't know if both of them had been here, or just Castle, but they were long gone.

When he poked his head out, he almost collided with the small tense agent. She ignored him and made her own check of the room.

"Clear," Esposito offered habitually, more for the benefit of his partner, but she scowled at him.

"I can see that." She had a lisp – stronger the more pissed off she was.

He held out his palms. It was so not worth the trouble dealing with her; she was loud enough that he lost the temptation to tell her to chill. She had to have some serious stress issues. He looked over at Ryan to suggest they retreat but he was playing with Castle's phone.

"Bro," he started.

Ryan held up a finger then let it fall back and swipe at the screen again. A chime made him smirk and he turned the screen around to show he had cracked the password.

"Beckett's badge number reversed. Amateur."

"Whipped," Esposito shook his head, watching his partner reorient the phone, pick Beckett's number from last accessed contacts and hit speaker. Out of the corner of his eye, he sensed Paula shifting her weight, swaying on her hips from one foot to the other in an irritating restless motion. It was like watching the tip of a cat's tail.

"Hello?" Beckett's voice was slightly breathless, like she was breathing out the words while recovering from a good laugh. Odds were good Castle was with her. "Who is this?"

"It's Ryan."

"What are you doing with Castle's phone?"

"Long story," Esposito shot a look at Paula who was incoming, done with watching and ready to pounce on Ryan and steal the phone. "Where are you guys?"

"A few blocks down getting breakfast, why? You want to join us? See if you guys can sober Castle up for me."

"Sober him up?" Ryan looked amused.

"He's sober and suffering," Kate revised her statement. "He had one too many drinks with Ben Rhys last night. This morning actually. Cleared out the mini bar."

"The Irish have the best hangover cures." They heard Castle groan out in the background.

"Not cool," Ryan muttered.

"We'll pass," Esposito declined. "But you might want to head back," he kept his tone neutral, not wanting to set off the stilettoed pit-bull scowling on the other side of the room.

She picked up on it too readily. "Espo?"

"Your agent is here," Ryan supplied before Beckett could worry, backing through the door before said agent could get a word in. "And she looks like she has something pretty urgent to talk to you about."

The three of them had been cloistered in Castle's room ever since. Through the single door- Ryan kept his open- they heard enough to hustle up a copy of the morning paper. On the front page of the society section was Natalie Rhodes wrapped around Castle like a limpet, arms around his neck and her face kissing up against his. On the right of the shot all three detectives had been included for seemingly comedic affect looking like they'd been smacked over the back of the head with a board.

"Oh, he's in trouble now." Ryan muttered.

Beckett was not going to like this. All the Nikki Heat fans were going to totally eat this up.

"At least it's not Beckett…actors do crazy stuff all the time, right? It'll blow over."

…

God, he hoped this blew over soon or he was going to be black and blue. Seriously. He was going to have to get himself some body guards – and not his friends. Esposito had been the first one to thump him and Castle couldn't even tell if the staggering clap on the shoulder had been in congratulation or sympathy.

Thanks to that photo everyone he seemed to meet on set thought he and Natalie were 'finally' an item. In celebration, every man he passed and even some of the women were offering him slaps, punches, chest bumps and man hugs of congratulation.

After the number of high fives, he wasn't sure he was ever going to be able to write again. His hands were throbbing all the way down to the bone.

After Paula had finished with them, they had constructed the naïve plan that Beckett would be his chaperone for the day- a win-win situation: Beckett could fend off a certain blonde actress and Castle would have an extra measure of protection he wouldn't get just from Ryan and Esposito's guard. They should have known that logic wouldn't work on this set.

Beckett's presence didn't deter anyone; it encouraged them. They seemed to have no qualms congratulating the writer on his latest sexual benchmark in her presence. In fact, when they saw Beckett draw in close, they just shook their heads in admiration, their thoughts clear across their faces: You lucky bastard. You've got a beautiful actress following you around like a dog in heat and now this? If anyone thought he had lost his edge, they had changed his mind. Apparently he still had it.

But he didn't want it. He would donate it. He just wanted to take his girlfriend and his friends and go back to New York.

His phone signalled a full mail box and he opened up his inbox to clear out messages. They had exploded since the news this morning- hundreds of contacts personally commenting on his new relationship status. He hadn't mustered up the courage to check his twitter feed yet, but Paula had informed him the number of new followers were in the thousands. What? Did they think he was going to tweet about Natalie?

_She's stalking me._

"This is getting ridiculous," Kate grumbled from her chair, glaring at a young lighting technician making very obvious progress towards them. Castle had seen him hovering uncertainly for too long to be innocent – wavering out of the corner of his eye. Thankfully Kate's unimpressed scrutiny had deterred the young man so far. The last thing he needed was another guy clapping him on the back as the ultimate player.

"Tell me about it. I'm going to have to go out and buy out a shop's supply of arnica cream."

She abandoned staring down the young man who had halted twenty feet away in favour of throwing him an amused glance. "Baby."

"Easy for you to say – you haven't been hit over a hundred people, sweetheart."

"You're exaggerating," she scoffed. "Only twenty two people have actually hit you."

"You've been counting?" he exclaimed.

Her answer was self-explanatory. "Detective."

"Mr Castle!" the sandy-blond technician tried a side approach now he was free from Kate's glare. "Congratulations!" He didn't even bother to mention the reason for his salutation – as if it was obvious. It was.

So very obvious.

Castle's professional smile was painfully skewered, like he had pushed a stretch too far at the gym trying to keep up with her and didn't want to admit he had probably torn something vital. "I'm starting to think the number of papers on set this morning will be enough to keep the newspaper afloat in its death throes for a little longer."

The younger man went for the politically correct smile and nod to cover the bewildered incomprehension that statement fostered. "I hear ya," he agreed happily.

Do you really?

"Oh, and thanks; now I can totally get that new phone."

"I'm sorry?" Kate asked.

"Phone?" Castle was confused.

"Yeah," he looked between the two of them. "I've been putting off buying it until I had some extra cash, you know how it is - well maybe not you, Mr Castle. With the fifty I got from the pool though, I'm in the clear."

"The pool?" Castle demanded. "People were betting on us? Natalie and I are not together!"

"She's totally hot." He said it like an explanation - that there was no way Castle was not with the actress.

"We. Are. Not. Together," Castle repeated, over enunciating and using stabbing hand gestures.

"For real?" he asked, looking to Kate for confirmation. "Is he for real?"

"Oh, for the love of…" Castle scrubbed at his face with a hand in agitation.

"What's your name?" Kate asked the tech, smoothly moving in front of her partner while he collected himself.

He puffed his chest a little and stepped in closer to her. "Gordon, but people call me Dun."

Castle saw her eyes tighten, a trick he knew meant she was trying not to roll her eyes. "Right. Well, Gordon, it was nice meeting you and good luck with your phone. Now I'm sure you have somewhere you're supposed to be." The, 'so get out of here' was left implied. She looked at him pointedly, not blinking, but letting her eyes get thinner.

Gordon took one look and swallowed. He stepped back hastily and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I should…"

"Go." Kate finished, commanding.

"Go," he stuttered, already sidling away.

They both watched him as he backed away, but Kate waited until he was turned away before stepping closer to her partner.

"Hey, you okay?"

"No. No, I'm not okay. Did you hear that? They have a pool – had a pool. Every reprobate here has been watching me hide around the set all week and hasn't done anything except fork out more money."

"Whoa," she put her palms to his chest, trying to anchor him as his blood pressure rose again. On instinct his hands close over them and linger, fighting the natural urge to throw them off. He doesn't want to be restrained. He wants to do something with the energy sizzling through his limbs. It makes him jittery not being able to do anything and Kate's touch, usually so calming, barely focuses him away from it all. He wants a punching bag or a good run.

A run with Kate. It was a habit she had roped him into over the summer. He didn't want her to leave the bed and was clingy enough to whine at her leaving the apartment but she had insisted. She was running and if he missed her so much, he could just suck it up or run with her.

The thought of an imminent run was usually enough to get his heart rate elevated. The thought was almost comforting now as if the reason his heart was pumping over time now was for such an innocent reason - he was going to go running with Kate. He let him feel her palms, focus on the heat in them radiating out to him. He even pictured the first mile of their usual route, reviewing it until he felt his heart sync from anger into anticipation.

"Better?" She asked quietly.

He let out a puff of air and nodded.

"We just have to get through tomorrow," she reminded him, pulling her hands away and reassuming their safe zone of personal space. He did an automatic scan of any people in the area and was convinced there was no immediate danger; there was no one with a cell pointed their way. Ryan caught his eye briefly and nudged his partner. Esposito sent back a chin jerk of a salute. The Roach actors with them waved cheerfully, oblivious.

Still no sign of Natalie.

"By tomorrow, they'll be taking dates for Natalie's and my engagement," he muttered, still resentful. He wasn't even that famous; he wasn't supposed to be on the society pages here. Was this how Kate felt with all the unwanted attention? He just wanted to go back to his normal life without looking over his shoulder.

"That's not funny," Kate said sharply and he looked at her in surprise, drawn out of his own head. She was deliberately not meeting his gaze, but he recognised the set of her eyes and mouth; she was angry at herself, embarrassed, but under it all there was a sting of hurt and he kicked himself. Engagement? Really?

"Oh, no," he tried to back pedal. "I…I'm sorry."

She shook her head, reassuring him she was fine, but he could see after just a day, the stress was starting to eat at her as well. Here their partnership took a backseat and she couldn't even claim that hold over him. She didn't like being reduced down to writer and inspiration and it delighted him to see her chaffing to announce to everyone how much more they were than some mutually beneficial business arrangement. Delighted and pained him because he knew they couldn't do that.

For the rest of their time here, he wasn't hers.

"Let's just get through this week so we can go home," she said quietly.

Before he could concur a lilting voice cut in on his behalf. "Leaving so soon?"

…


	18. Chapter 18

**Standard disclaimer.**

**It's getting colder down here. I think Winter is definitely gearing up.**

Before he could concur a lilting voice cut in on his behalf. "Leaving so soon?"

How could she let herself get so distracted? All morning she had been consciously scanning the crowd, shepherding Castle from place to place on the set under the excuse that it was probably better to be hard to find; after the morning news who knows how many people on the set would love to make a few bucks selling photos of him. She had even guilt tripped him, reminding him that the last thing they needed was photos of the two of them available to the world. The press loved a scandal and would jump at photos of Writer and Muse.

_Muse stakes claim over Writer. What about Natalie? Stay tuned for Hollywood's newest _heated _love triangle._

He agreed quickly it was a bad idea. Even if they managed to establish and against all odds maintain a zero contact policy, depending on the angle there wouldn't have to be contact for the photos to look intimate. The press could make anything look salacious. Sure, it wasn't her legs as his new belt, Natalie style, but….

She had to stop thinking about that.

All she should be actually concerned about was the mental copy of Natalie's shooting schedule Paula had provided her with and making sure that Castle was not in the same place at the same time. Some might consider it the task of Castle's manager or agent, but she felt more like a body guard; trying to defend him from an identified threat.

Some body guard she made.

"Natalie," she acknowledged the newcomer.

"Detective Beckett, Rick."

Castle managed a small wave which seemed too forced but already she could see his persona changing, forcibly rounding his alarmed shoulders and slouching his spine into a friendly lounge. It was a lifeline for him, she had come to learn. Whenever he got stressed, he would fall back onto a different persona, not unlike an actor mentally shrugging into an old role. He hid himself away and became all flash and bang; whatever would distract his audience and let him slip away safely.

"Hey," he smiled. "You on a break?"

Natalie hummed. "Just thought I'd take a walk and get a cup of coffee while they set up the lighting," she looked between the two of them. She was in full costume, as much as it was; wig, fitted jeans that tapered into tall heels and a slim shirt conspicuously missing the top three buttons. Without the blazer she almost passed as sophisticated casual. But her posture was anything but casual. It was a 180 from yesterday, her shoulders tense, arms slung across her chest and facing a foot to Castle's side rather than head on.

"That must be tedious," Beckett offered, unsure why Natalie was giving Castle the cold shoulder after following him around like a groupie in her free moments yesterday. Maybe her publicity team had given her trouble for the photo as well. If that was true then she had no place taking it out on Castle – it sure as hell wasn't his fault. "Prepping a scene and then having to wait."

Natalie shrugged stiffly, the long line of her frame completing the motion almost reluctantly, shooting Castle a sharp look. "Good things are worth waiting for."

Okay. Kate glanced at her partner but couldn't tell through his politely interested façade if he was as taken aback by Natalie's change in behaviour as she was.

"I couldn't agree more," he smiled, still politely affable but his sincerity breaking through for a fleeting moment. He didn't look at her, but Kate knew exactly what he was thinking about with that smile and she had to fight to keep the sappy smile off her face. She loved him. His pride in his own feelings. His confidence in them. He loved her and she was reminded just how grateful she was for him. That he had waited for her. That even now he valued the time as well spent and not a waste.

…

"It's been a while," Natalie offered as she accepted a cup from the coffee trolley.

"Yeah," Kate replied shortly, focusing her attention on balancing the coffee cup for her and her partner while avoiding all the traffic. People moved in packs; very rarely was there a lone power walker or even a spontaneous group of individuals power marching their separate ways together as they would on a New York street. There were whole clusters wheeling set pieces, racks and equipment to be avoided. She did not want to get back to Castle and tell him she was wearing their coffees.

Kate had offered to do the coffee run with Natalie – not from any burning desire to spend time with her but from a growing disquiet. The reproachful, bitter waves Kate felt her directing at her partner were as unsettling as the unembarrassed attention of the day before. It just didn't make sense. Was she pissed at the article in the morning news? It was her choice to wrap herself around Castle. But she didn't seem like the kind of person to be embarrassed or rattled by a little publicity- hell she had calmly mopped hot tea from her face and clothes in the middle of an uptown New York restaurant.

Maybe she was bipolar.

"How's Josh?"

The shot from the left-field made Kate's hands clench around the paper cups, the radiating heat setting the condensation of her palms to painful temperatures. Okay, wasn't expecting that.

"We broke up," Kate replied succinctly, shifting the cups to rest in her fingertips rather than her scalded palms.

"That's too bad. He was a really nice guy," Natalie took a sip from her cup. "Handsome," she added, her pumping less than subtle. Kate so didn't want to go there.

She shrugged. "The heart wants what the heart wants."

"And how is yours?"

"Sorry?"

"Your heart? I mean it must be functioning if you're still working." Natalie must have seen something on her face she thought she had hidden. She was usually better at fielding those questions but damn it, she wasn't expecting it. It was quite the leap to make from Josh to her shooting. Her cover up was flawed and there was probably more for the actress to see; she would have been less surprised if Natalie had reached over and slapped her. It would account for the frosty feeling she had been picking up on.

"Excuse me?" Kate managed.

"Your shooting. We all followed the story," Natalie took another casual sip. "Did you get my flowers?"

"Uh," she water gated. I wasn't…conscious when most of them arrived? I was too drugged?

She wanted to say she couldn't remember half the flowers – and there had been a lot of them- let alone have gotten out of bed to read all the attached labels to see who they were from. Her time in ICU and later in recovery was a garble of pain, drugs and guilt. Any fully formed thought she had was for the hollows under her father's eyes, Castle's face as he walked away. Her sniper and that he was in the wind. What the point of the surgery was if he was going to come back for her anyway? It was just a matter of time.

He should have done them all a favour and aimed better the first time so she didn't have to put everyone through this again.

Her Captain.

Flowers hadn't been high up on her list of priorities.

"I thought we were close," Natalie was blunt but the accusatory undertone was clear.

Kate flinched internally. "We were," she tried to soothe the actress. "I just didn't have a chance to thank everyone for…"

"I'm not talking about the flowers," Natalie shook her head, stopping their progress back to Castle.

Beckett stared. Natalie was pumping up but Kate literally had no idea where this was going.

"You were always straight with me," Natalie sighed.

"That's right." If you count a week as always, Kate silently added.

"And that hasn't changed?" Natalie pressed.

What was going on? "No," Kate agreed slowly. "It hasn't." As long as she didn't directly ask about her relationship with Castle, there was no reason Kate would deliberately put her off on the wrong track. Natalie wasn't a bad person…sure she had a tendency to go too far with her research and character preparation, but she was a nice person.

"When I was in New York," Natalie forged on. "You told me Castle wasn't gay."

Kate's mouth dropped, the disbelief this topic was coming up again left her no less surprised for being the second time around. "He's not," Kate stuttered. He is _so_ not gay.

"Are you sure? You're a detective; what's your proof?"

Kate flushed, her thoughts tracking back to last night before Ben had arrived and the hickey she had high on her inner thigh, sensitive to the slight pressure from the elastic of her underwear. "My proof?" she swallowed. "Where do I start?"

Somewhere G rated.

"He's been married," Kate blurted. "Twice. Both to women."

Natalie just shook her head. "That was years ago. A lot of gay men marry women before they admit to everything and come out of the closet."

"Are you serious right now?"

"The last relationship he was in was with his ex-wife, and that was years ago."

"Ok, where is this coming from?"

Natalie shook herself in frustration, practically thrumming with agitated energy. The grip she had on the hot cup made Kate want to take a step back, expecting an imminent cascade of scalding milk to flow from a crushed cup.

"I was worried about him," Natalie confessed brusquely. "Worried he was just going to disappear again. So last night I arranged for an acquaintance of mine to allow monitoring of the security cameras outside his room."

"What?"

"They set the feed up on to my laptop for me and I saw everything."

Kate tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry. "Everything?"

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Natalie demanded.

"Tell you?" Kate repeated dumbly. "Do you know how many laws you've broken this week?"

Natalie steamrolled on. "Kate, why did you lie? Why didn't you just tell me?"

"No," Kate shook her head adamantly, viciously reigning in her temper. "You don't get to do this. You've been all over him all week when he expressly told you he wasn't interested and now you had him under surveillance."

"I wouldn't have been all over him if you had just told me the truth back in New York!" Natalie shot back.

"Like it would have made any difference." Castle and I weren't together then. I wasn't lying.

"Of course it would have. I'm obviously not his type," Natalie choked out the last part and Kate felt her confidence shake at the devastated look on the actress's face. What the hell was going on here? Natalie shook her head, closing her eyes to Kate's stare. "I know you're obviously happy with Detective Esposito, but do you have any idea how I feel now?" Natalie asked roughly.

Wait, what? Esposito?

"I saw you sneak out of his room last night, Kate. Unless Detective Ryan is cheating on his wife, which I doubt, I know you were with him last night."

"You saw me sneak out of Esposito's room," Kate said dumbly.

"Don't deny it."

Kate just stared at her.

"You know what else I saw, Detective?" Natalie challenged, a little steel coming back into her voice now, into her posture too as she took the offensive. "I saw Ben. Castle invited him in and he never left. Don't pretend you have no idea they were together last night."

"Castle and Ben?" The idea was so absurd it was hard to put the names together. "You must be joking."

"I saw you go into his room before six thirty this morning. You and Castle left but Ben was still there; he left after seven. You found them together."

"Whoa," Kate set the coffee cups down. "Yes. I found them together – passed out drunk. Ben was in the recovery position on the lounge floor and Castle was in bed. They were both there, but there were no signs that they were _together_ in any way."

"Don't be so naïve. They've been attached at the hip all week!"

Okay. Scary. No wonder Castle decided to get out. "Yeah," Kate agreed, trying not to sound too placating. "Just like you were when you visited me in New York. Ben is shadowing Castle. That's all."

"Prove it."

"Wha-? How am I supposed to do that?" She could just imagine it now. She would let herself into the circle of her partner's arms, lean against him and he would smile and go to kiss her but she would pull back, look him in the eye and ask him, 'Castle, are you having a torrid affair with Ben Rhys?'

Kate shook the image out of her head. "Why don't you just ask them?" Less drama and they could all relax.

"Because they wouldn't tell me the truth," Natalie practically pleaded.

"Castle doesn't lie," Kate objected, still astonished by Natalie's conviction in such a ridiculous theory. "Besides, does Ben Rhys really strike you as a closet gay?"

…


	19. Chapter 19

**Standard disclaimer. **

**Okay, two weeks to go before semester exams and all my assignments are sitting on me for Monday, so forgive the brevity. Sorry it's not fluffy to make up for the finale - I don't think she's going to say yes by the way- something about a quote from Andrew a while back about how he was going to keep them apart as long as he credibly could...She might stay in the city, but I'll be very VERY surprised (and happy) if she says yes. **

**Anyway...**

…

Castle wasn't sure if it was technically a fatal flaw, but he knew it was a big problem with him. He was just too damn curious – curious enough that when those warning signs went up his ears would perk rather than flatten down against his skull and off he would go, trotting forward to investigate. With that in mind, he considered the possible drawbacks of evolution.

Today at least it didn't look like this cat was going to be killed by his curiosity. The set was swarmed with technicians and Castle decided he should a safe distance away from the rippling system of chaos. In place of actors for the moment, was the gaffer, cinematographer and their drones, a step out from that were the cameras, the lights and then on the edge of the self-contained universe he stood a safe distance from the writing coils of chords.

The last time Castle saw the set for Nikki's apartment it was still being dressed. The surfaces had been plastered in photos, still shots of the same room as it was for _Heat Wave_. Bookcases, coffee tables, rugs, oddly and far too deliberately placed knick knacks far too modern and mainstream for anything he would ever find in Kate's apartment.

But that was the way it should be. Castle had accepted the inevitable separation of inspiration and her fictional counterpart with open arms, thrilled for Kate that Nikki could never dream to make the same leap and bounds Kate managed. Despite his best efforts, Nikki would never be the woman, the fighter, the lover, the human being Kate Beckett was. Nikki was a poor man's Kate Beckett.

He took a step closer and marvelled at the extreme makeover the decorating team had pulled in the two days since then. Everything was an exact replica of the photos, down to the orchid potted and delicately leaning in its place on the kitchen island.

Then there was the painting on the feature wall, the lanterns calling out to him to follow and fall in line. There was just something there that reached out to him, the light and the innocence. He remembered thinking when he wrote _Heat Wave_ that he wanted to give that to Kate. It seems absurd now that after only knowing her a few months he thought he could just _give_ Kate anything except a headache. As complex as he thought she was then, he could sit back from a lofty vantage point of over four years later and shake his head at himself. He really had no idea.

You couldn't just save Kate Beckett. She didn't even want you to try.

He was still staring at the lantern when he heard the determined march of heels closing in. Kate didn't need saving, just support and love and then she'd turn around and save you, make you better than you knew you could be.

He turned to accept his cup of coffee with a smile but inwardly blanched when he identified the heels he heard as the ones on Natalie's feet. His gaze jumped up over the long legs to just above shoulder height and panned left and right looking for Kate. Castle nodded politely when Natalie continued to close in, too distracted and cold. Paula would kill him if she saw it. He'd have to screen all his calls and emails for the next month.

His calls. He fumbled for his phone to call Kate, not caring about the cautiously curious lilt to Natalie's eyebrows as she stopped beside him. Apparently her cold shoulder had melted. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing. See, this is why he needs Kate today – to provide him with insights into the woman's psyche.

"You looking for Beckett?" Natalie asked, sipping at her coffee.

"My coffee," he replies with as natural a smirk as he can manage.

"She said she just had to make a quick call," Natalie offered. She looked at him and seemed to take a fortifying breath. "Do you want to share mine? Cream, two sugars. That's the way you like it right?"

He doesn't understand the way she's looking at him, the way she's acting. It's so unlike the Natalie Rhodes he knows, the confidence, the flirting. He also doesn't know why she knows how he takes his coffee. It doesn't make him twitchy the way it did at the beginning of the week when all he read from her was sleek, fixated and predatory.

"Right," he agrees reluctantly.

Over her shoulder he catches sight of the woman he was looking for and the thin edge of tension tingling through his nerves settles. He offers her a smile but at the look on her face his stomach shudders and somewhere between his navel and back up to its normal resting space, he notes Natalie inched closer smiling widely back at him. He wanted to tell her that he wasn't smiling at her. His smiles were for Kate; should have an aftermarket stamp attached: Kate's Property. But he can't do that and he can't ask her what was wrong.

Natalie followed his gaze and turned enough to catch sight of Kate, wave, nod sharply like she had just made up her mind and turn back to him. He isn't smiling anymore. Kate looks as pissed as Natalie did determined and he didn't want to think what that meant.

"Castle," Natalie hummed, a little too low and a little too practiced. He shot a look over her shoulder at Kate who stepped in close to his side. Too close to be innocent. What the hell was going on? It made him nervous, like he had just appeared on someone's radar and was just sitting there waiting to be locked on to. Natalie was firing him the same smile she had all week before she climbed into his bed.

Kate's face was carefully blank when she handed over the small cup but her eyes were hard and he felt there were glaring vivid speech bubble floating in clouds above her head, filled with capital letters and exclamation marks if only he could read them.

"Hey," he managed lamely.

This was so not good.

"Hey," she returns, too still and tense at his side. Natalie however seems to be relaxing more that his muse is here. He gulps at his cup, hoping the inevitable inundation of stimuli can distract his curious mind from exploring what the hell they could have been talking about that affected them both that way. Kate was supposed to be his protector, not Natalie's cheering squad.

The coffee isn't warm enough to scald his tongue and is just the right balance of cream and sugar, definitely Kate-made, but lacks any factor significant to railroad him from the unnerving disquiet the two look-alikes in front of him are pumping in.

How much longer until they leave?

"How's the coffee?" Natalie asked.

He blinks. "Good," he offers. "Yours?"

"Just what I needed. Pulled an all-nighter last night," Natalie admitted, her eyes too narrow, almost accusatory above her cup as she takes another sip almost reflexively.

Okay, he has no idea what to do with that. What does he care that she pulled an all-nighter? Does he even want to know what, or who, she was doing all night? Was she trying to make him jealous?

"Kate, too," Natalie adds pointedly.

Kate lets out a resigned sigh next to him. Oh god. Is that it? Natalie figured out he and Kate were together last night? Is that why she was so cold this morning and why she was so eager to get Kate alone? He looks rapidly between the two women and is taken aback by the glare Kate is levelling on the actress. It doesn't make sense. None of it does.

But somehow he feels relieved. Now that Natalie knows, this whole nightmare can end. If Natalie found out and confronted Kate it's pretty much game over. He's mine. Don't touch. Natalie seems a lot more relaxed, happy even. So why is Kate glaring?

He slips his free arm around Kate, resting his fingers on the shelf where her skin meets her waistband and smiles down at her. He barely registers the warmth there before she's pulling away, her eyes a clear warning and he fumbles.

"You might not want to get too comfortable there, Rick," Natalie hums out.

What?

Kate's eyes close too slowly on a blink, reining something back.

"If Detective Esposito sees you sidling in on his girlfriend, he's not going to be happy. He's ex-military right?"

"Esposito?"

Natalie's smile drops and her head twitches violently to focus on Kate at his side. "He doesn't know?" she asks incredulously.

"Know what?" he manages.

"Kate's all-nighter."

"What about it?" he looks down at his girlfriend. What did she do last night after she left him?

When Kate made no move to stop the actress, she continued almost pityingly, "It was with Detective Esposito."

…


	20. Chapter 20

**Standard Disclaimer.**

**I don't feel I'm being fair only updating once a week, my life is a little full, so just letting you know this fic is almost done. Gonna have to cut it short but it will have an ending.**

**Sorry.**

**Thanks to those who review every time, you guys make my day.**

…

Castle has a crown on one of his left bottom molars. It's white enamel on the surface but there's a little of the old filling there too, a dark pocket waiting inside his mouth. She knows his mouth well enough now to know this, but anyone walking past right now probably knows about this particular feat of dentistry too. Castle's mouth is certainly open wide enough.

It would be funny if she wasn't so over this. The idea of it all was absurd, childish even. Why hadn't they just done what most normal adults would have done and sat Natalie down and told her they were together and to please keep it to herself – at least until next week when they were back in the city and had told Gates.

She wasn't sure why she hadn't flat out told the actress she was not sleeping with Esposito the same way she had insisted Castle was not at all interested in Ben Rhys. Maybe it had seemed easier than explaining the real reason Natalie had caught her creeping out of Esposito's room at almost three o'clock in the morning. But she hadn't taken into account the way Natalie could never let anything go. Around the woman everything just seemed to get blown out of proportion.

"Esposito?" Castle's voice was garbled as he choked out over the single word.

Natalie finally seemed to click that he wasn't thrilled about this development but before she could go on to dig Kate into a deeper hole, Kate took over the explanation. It wasn't that he wasn't thrilled, it was just the opposite; he was going to have an absolute field day with this.

"Natalie here was a little worried about you," Kate answered quickly. "Seemed to think that you might be thinking of just up and leaving again." Which we were, Kate added silently, knowing he would be thinking the same thing. "So she arranged for the security footage from our hall to be transferred to a laptop in her room as well as to security. In her little stakeout she might have seen me leaving the boy's suite."

..

"She saw you leave?"

Kate and Natalie both nodded. Natalie looked far too happy with her own detective work. If she thought Kate was staying with Esposito however, he could safely assume that she hadn't seen enter Castle's room, rather than Esposito's. Thank God for interconnecting suites.

"So you and Esposito are an item, huh?" He pursed his lips out, blanching them together in an attempt not to laugh at the disgusted curl on his girlfriend's lips before she can banish it. He's seen that look before, right after she got out of her shower to find him cooking, she later rephrased it to desecrating, her kitchen with the creation of his smorlete.

"You think that's funny, Castle?" she narrows her eyes at him, and he knows he should feel bad and support her through this, have her back, but the idea of Kate and her Latino partner is just too funny.

He coughs, still trying to choke it all down, and shakes his head. She transfers most of her weight onto the foot he didn't realise she had subtly placed over his own and he sucks in a breath. Okay, he deserved that…but still. Vindictive much?

"If it's so funny, maybe I'll grab him and we can show you how we spent the night."

"No," he barks out almost vomiting the exclamation, not laughing anymore. He never wanted to see those two together in any way, shape or form. Possessive, that may be, but also in his own best interest – Lanie would kick his ass if she ever found out about it and she could be scary. Sometimes she would just run her fingers over the polished steel and look at him, a contemplative light to her eyes and then she'd purse her lips, as though she was finalizing some equally pointed words.

"Relax, Castle," Kate chides him smugly, apparently satisfied she's evened the score. "We were probably doing the same thing you and Ben were doing."

Natalie chokes.

"Whoa," he flicks a confused look with Kate, but she just rolls her eyes. "You okay?"

"Natalie! We're ready!"

All three jerk around at the sound of the megaphone. From over behind the main camera, the director waves and Castle finds himself waving back, unconsciously replying to the universal gesture.

"I've got to go," Natalie mumbled.

And she was gone.

…

"Okay, what did you to her?"

Both Kate and Castle turn and drop their gaze a half foot to place the face with the accusatory tone. The smaller woman looks as stretched as she did yesterday, her black hair slicked back against her skull and seemingly pulling her eyebrows up with it.

"I'm sorry?" Kate frowns.

"Natalie. What did you two do to her?"

"Nothing!" they both exclaim, stung. After all the crap Natalie had put them through this week, Paula's indignation smarts. Exactly whose side is she on anyway?

"Well she's been walking around like a robot all morning," Paula throws her hands up.

"How is that our - ," he starts to object, but she cuts him off, digging her pointer finger into his chest.

"And then she leaves the two of you looking like she was trying to swallow her lungs back down."

"She has no one to blame for that but herself," Kate retorted, rubbing absently at the spot on Castle's chest he had just thrown the pointed digit off.

"Would you care to explain, Detective?"

"Only that we can add a few more transgressions to keep her B&E and assault company," letting her hand still when Castle's came up to cover it and hold it still. "She had us under surveillance last night. She high jacked the security camera feed from our hall and was watching it."

"So? What? She catch Rick slinking into your room?"

"Paula," Rick growled.

"No," Kate returned coldly. "She saw me leaving from the boy's suite."

"So the slumber party was in Rick's room and I assume you made use of the door into their suite. I repeat. So?"

"She also saw Ben Rhys turn up at Castle's room at 3am and stay there until 7."

"She was watching the whole time?" Castle sounds torn between confused and amused.

"She had a personal investment in watching when Ben left your room," Kate turned to him with a resigned expression. "She's convinced that the two of you are an item."

"Wait, what?" Castle's face went blank.

"Excuse me?" Paula demanded.

"When you turned her down in New York, she asked me if you were gay."

"And what did you say?" Castle demanded.

"No, obviously."

"It still doesn't make any sense," Paula shifted her weight, glaring up at them.

"Yes, it does. Somewhere in Natalie's head she's taken logic into her own hands and turned it all on end. Castle has been turning her down all week. Ran away when she turned up in his bed and yet he lets Ben in at 3 and lets him stay the rest of the night. In her mind that pretty much proves you two are secretly together."

"That's it?" Paula questioned, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"She thinks I'm gay?"

"In the closet," Kate huffed. "She won't listen to me when I try and tell her she's wrong."

All three looked over to the set where Natalie sat looking out a window, avoiding Ben Rhys as he wrapped an arm around her. She was leaning away from him, the chemistry the scene was supposed to showcase all shot through and twisted.

"She's not with it at all," Castle observes.

"Probably thinking about Ben cuddling with you," Kate grumbled, her grip around his hand possessive.

"Cut!" The megaphone was at work again. "Let's take a break people."

The director is already on route for the actress and neither of them looks particularly happy.

…

"Just a read through," Paula insists. The director is beaming at the idea, no doubt remembering the last time Kate had graced his camera when they were in LA. Sure, it sounds fun. He loves working with Kate and the idea of getting to use the actual sets is amazing, but this is his world, not Kate's. He already dragged her into it when he made her the inspiration for Nikki Heat, but this is too much. She's a cop; she shouldn't have to be on the stage for all these people to watch.

"It would be amazing," The director's assistant pitches. "You've made a lot of fans up here Ricky and they'd love to see you and your muse give it a shot."

"Her name is Kate," Castle interrupts.

"Kate. Right," he nods and then ploughs on. "Plus I think Natalie really needs it. She's always telling us how inspiring it is to watch the two of you together. Maybe she just needs a recharge. Say you'll do it."

"Rick," Paula adds lowly, something dark and full of potential pain if he disagrees.

"This is your chance to make your mark on this film," the director says quietly, playing on Castle's creative ego. "This will really help the actors and influence their performances. Besides, don't you want to play Jameson Rook just once? Show us what this romance is all about?"

Oh, that was low. Play on his desire to kiss Kate.

"I think it's a good idea."

His jaw drops a little and he jerks around to see Kate nodding in agreement with the director.

"No one knows these characters better than you, than us," she shrugs. "It's just a read though and you already know the lines: you wrote them. Why don't you show everyone here just the kind of man you are?"

The last sentence is pointed and he understands what she's insinuating. This is his chance to prove to Natalie and all the others on the set who think he might be a little too metrosexual that he is absolutely devoted to one person, and that person is Kate. Not Natalie and not Ben Rhys.

"You sure about this?" he asks her.

"Sure," she gives that little nonchalant shrug.

"Excellent," there are smiles all around and Paula actually thanks Kate. "We'll take lunch so we can get you guys into costume and give you some time to look over the lines."

"Great," Kate smiles, unconcerned.

..

"I know you said you're sure," he has them sequestered away behind one of the set pieces. She rolled her eyes when he grabbed her hand and led her here and had chided him that this wasn't at all suspicious. He knows that she's probably right, it is suspicious and is inviting rumours, but hell they're leaving tomorrow and by Monday Gates will know and then he doesn't care who else knows- they can gossip all they want. Right now though, he needs to make sure that Kate wasn't just being selfless, that's she's really okay with it.

"I am sure," she speaks at a normal volume, resilient.

"You don't have to do this," he reassures her.

"Castle," she huffs, "Don't worry so much. If I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't have agreed."

"I know."

"And maybe I do want to do it. You think about that?" she admits.

"What?"

"Maybe I want to show everyone just what Nikki Heat can do," she runs her hand over his chest, sliding her palm up his muscles until she can pull down on the lapel of his shirt. "It's been hard for you, avoiding Natalie, having people think the two of you are an item. Having her think you and Ben are an item."

He makes a snort at that last one and brings her in close so he can feel all of her pressed up against him, soft, warm and strong. Like he and Ben were ever going to be anything. He had _Kate Beckett_!

"But," she continues. "I don't think you've taken into account what the last 48 hours have been like for me."

He blinks. "I-."

She places her hand over his mouth. "No," she cuts him off. "I'm not blaming you."

He kisses her palm then nudges it away with his chin. "I don't understand."

She catches his chin and uses it as a hold on him, pulling his head down an inch so they are eye to eye. "You are mine, you hear me?" she demands. "You're mine, Richard Castle. You're _my_ writer, _my_ partner, _my_ lover and this is my chance to make sure everyone on this set knows it."

She pulls him closer then, tearing his lips apart so she can force herself inside, spill the truth of her words through his body. He willingly grants her access to one of the places she has come to think of home but only allows her a brief second before he retaliates, pushing at her, his hands starting to wander roughly, impatient.

He leads her, swaying on the spot until her back connects with the wall and the cold metal against her too-hot flesh makes her yelp, jumping away and separating from the wall and Castle at the same time.

He expels a harsh breath, nodding and scrubbing at his cheek roughly almost pacing as he rocks from foot to foot with the restraint of not closing the gap again.

"Yours," he husks out. "Kate's boy toy," he recalls their conversation when she first made it to LA, chasing after him.

"Don't make me remind you again," she nods, ignoring the way it makes his eyes blow out even bigger. She sucks in a breath.

"So," she straightens his collar deliberately and steps back before he can grab her because she just can't say that kind of thing to him. "We're going to go and get our script. We're going to eat lunch and read over them, and then you're going to meet me on that set and we're going to show them all how it's really done."

…


	21. Chapter 21

**Standard Disclaimer. **

**This was going to be the last but for length purposes it's split, so this is the penultimate. Enjoy!**

Kate could never get over the cameras.

Maybe it was a hang up from modelling. The summer job should have made her more comfortable in the literal spotlight, but all these years later she still felt awkward and objectified. It had been great for self-image and self-esteem - not many girls could boast of being professional models. All in all she preferred modelling for art.

She blinked again against the glare of the set lights. They still managed to light up the backs of her eyelids and the heat of them was a physical thing lazing over her skin. The effect was compounded by the stares she knew were coming from behind the lights where her eyes couldn't see. Wardrobe had offered her the oversized sleep shirt and lounge pants to change into, going to lengths she would have preferred not to. By the time she changed and headed back from the toilet to the set she saw the number of techs and spectators had nearly doubled.

She had deposited her clothes along with Castle's on his chair and walked into Nikki Heat's living room. Ryan and Esposito had given her a sarcastic thumbs up and told her to break a leg, a comment then picked up and repeated by almost every person she had walked past. She'd been battling the low grade blush ever since.

Castle looked just about as awkward as she felt. She at least was fully covered wherever he was sitting there on the couch facing into the dark under the lights in boxers and an undershirt. Apparently the undershirt was a concession to the trial – when the actors took over for the genuine footage Ben Rhys would not be as covered. She supposed that entailed giving the audience what they wanted.

The director sat with him and Paula stood behind the couch. She didn't want to think about what that meant.

But she wasn't going to back down. Couldn't back down. It was the only way she was going to get Ben off her back. And she was going to physically pry the opportunistic cow off Castle's back. Natalie Rhodes was standing just behind her partner, clearly not paying as much attention to Paula as he was. Apparently whatever was making Castle's face crunch in and Paula irritable wasn't as critical to the actress whose hands were flexing lightly against the thin undershirt material covering the small of Castle's back.

Looks like asking Castle to strip off a few layers was all she needed to do to convince Natalie he was a heterosexual male with no interest in her co-star.

Kate padded forward, silent in her bare feet against the wood pattern plastic floor. She approached from Paula's one o'clock, trying to bolster herself for whatever bad news the woman had brought with her this time. From her trajectory, she got a clear line of sight on Castle and his human koala. While koala was clingy enough, it didn't account for the hungry look. Predatory. Natalie's blue eyes were tireless, roaming over the muscles Castle was showing off. Calves, thighs, butt, back, shoulders and arms – all in a circuit.

Something Paula said made him shift uneasily and set the skin sliding.

Kate's nails almost broke the skin of her palm when Natalie, slowly, distractedly run her tongue across her lips. The hand at the small of his back began to slink lower.

"Hey!" Kate barked.

Castle jumped almost a foot.

"Kate," he gasped.

Paula shot her an unfriendly stare. "There you are."

"Here I am," she agreed coldly, still watching Natalie warily. Paula's eyebrows shot up.

"You ready?" Natalie asked, smiling widely, clearly excited for her character's inspiration, absolutely guileless. She probably thought they were friends for life now Kate had given her inadvertent love advice.

"Bring it," Kate grated, annoyed she couldn't even legitimately slap her – she didn't know she was doing anything wrong. She thought Castle was single. And not gay apparently- it was something at least.

Castle's brow furrowed and she kicked herself – the last thing she needed was him thinking that she blamed him for this. She just had to get herself under control. He stepped into her side and took her hand, lacing their fingers together and sweeping up over the skin.

"You okay?" he asked.

She squeezed back. "Yeah. Just a little nervous," she lied.

"You're going to be great," Natalie reassured her. "After all, you are Nikki Heat."

"She's better," Castle disagreed quietly, and her heart flipped, all her jealousy and unease dismissed so abruptly she felt like she was caught up in vertigo. That man. He can be about as subtle as a kick to the head but damn it if his pride in her doesn't just make her insides warm every time.

Paula's speculative gaze was broken by her phone's alert. Kate looked away from her partner in surprise when Paula didn't bother responding to the electronic couldn't brag that she knew the woman well at all, but she had never known the agent to ignore her phone.

"Aren't you going to get that?"

"It's just an alert," Paula was lisping slightly again, a sure sign she was less than happy about something. "I've stopped checking them - there's nothing we can do."

"Do?" Kate repeated.

"It's from the Richard Castle fan sites and his Facebook. Twitter is going like a fair."

That didn't sound good…

"A few people let it slip about our little demo," Castle explained uneasily.

"Are you saying all these people follow you?" Kate couldn't believe it – the crowds of people that had gathered in under ten minutes just from the set. Sometimes she forgot he was _Richard Castle_.

"Follow the fan sites," Castle corrected. "I should have thought before we agreed."

"Nonsense," Paula scoffed. "There's no way you were going to keep this under wraps. It's not like we can confiscate every cell phone. This is going to get leaked and it's just the kind of publicity you need. Even your director thinks it is going to be a great spoiler."

"I'm sorry?"

"He's agreed to film it and include it as a special feature on the DVD release and use it as a promotional spoiler."

"You're kidding. Please tell me she's kidding," she implored Castle.

"We don't really have a choice," Castle swallowed. "As far as we can manage things, it's just going to be another camera. I haven't agreed to the footage being made public."

"Ricky," Paula protested.

"Cell phone footage on the net is one thing," he admitted, "But high definition on DVDs worldwide is another matter. Kate has a job and a life away from this. I'm not going to ruin her life for some good publicity for me."

"Remember what we talked about?" Paula demanded.

"I do," he said firmly, "but that would be local and it would be only in the paper."

"This isn't optional, Ricky. They're not just going to throw this footage away; it's gold." They both glared at her. "It's going to happen. If you're concerned about the NYPD and repercussions for Kate, do the demo with Natalie."

"Yes!" Natalie beamed.

"No!" Kate ground out. Three sets of eyes swiveled and set on her. Paula was knowing, Castle worried and Natalie just shocked – and not a little disappointed. Frankly, they could think what they liked because there was no way she was going to let Natalie do this scene with _her_ partner.

Even if it was just under the guise of Nikki Heat, this was her chance to make sure the whole world knew the inevitable: Richard Castle was hers.

She straightened her spine. "I'll do it."

…

**And Shannon...it's coming. You're in charge of tickets.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Standard Disclaimer. **

**Here it is, the last one. Thanks for making this far every one – especially since I only updated once a week. Oh, and if the dialogue for the scene is familiar, I took it from Naked Heat. A few words are different but …not mine really. **

Kate had always thought the actors had to look out the window at nothing and rely on their own mental representations of the outside world - but the blue screen was horrible to stare at. Since it ran where the glass pane would be and she was seated right in front of the window, practically her whole field of vision was blue. Kate had the feeling she was frowning, not because of the obvious reasons, but just because the screen caught the light so well and was reflecting it back into her eyes. She felt like she needed sunglasses.

But this scene was supposed to take place on a winter's night.

She forcibly relaxed her face and hunched her shoulders, like she was a little cold, despite the heater right beside her. The sooner she got this finished the better and damn if she wasn't going to show them just how it was supposed to be done.

"Action!"

Natalie Rhodes eat your heart out. The real Nikki Heat is in the building.

"You can come in," she said without turning from her gaze at the blue screen, tempting as the respite was. "I know you're there."

And she did. At risk of sounding like him, she seemed to have picked up a Castle-radar. It wasn't based on any one sense, but rather a bizarre, inexplicable feeling that he was there.

"Aren't you the trained observer, Detective," she could hear the smile in his voice and heard the familiar rhythm of his footsteps approach from behind. It gave him away. He had gone through a phase, where he tried to sneak up on her every time for almost a week. When he finally grew despondent over his lack of success, she told him it was just as well she knew it was him or he'd be dead.

That would really make date night. Her shooting him when he tried to impress her with his ninja wine delivering skills.

He settled solidly behind her and folded his forearms loosely around her neck, the scent of his cologne wafting over her skin. She took a few seconds to enjoy it before slouching back into his arms and recalling her line. "I heard you the second your feet hit the floor in there. You move about as subtly as a draft horse."

He huffed out a laugh, knowing she actually meant that. After indulging too heavily on one of their date nights, very hung over, the next morning she had practically attacked him for scuffing his way around the loft like an elephant. "You'll never hear me complain when the comparison involves a horse." He kissed her skin where her shoulder met her neck and hid a smile. He sounded delighted, fishing for compliments and knowing her response was set in stone. She couldn't deny him.

Not that she would- his lips felt so good. A little tension in her shoulders melted away.

"No?" She turned to look at him and sure enough he was grinning smugly. She would get him later. "No complaints here, either."

"That's good," his eyes softened a little, more Castle and less cocky journalist for a second. "Saves me the trouble of leaving a survey card."

And he was back. Cocky. In _Naked Heat_, Rook was still so cocky.

It was easier than she thought, slipping into these personas. They really were just shadows of the real them; real, but so old- like a program too long without updates. Sure the program still worked, but you knew there was a version of it now that was so much better and brighter. She was surprised just how much they'd grown. Grown enough that these characters, as they were in _Naked Heat_, felt emotionally constricted. She wanted to show everyone watching just how much more than this they were.

Thanks to him. She owed who she was today to the man at her back.

She almost started when he spoke again. "You thinking that he's out there somewhere?"

Right. Focus. "The Texan?" she shrugged. "Oh, he is for now." She practically glared out the window, like she was at an interrogation table. "Just for now."

"You worried he'll come here?" His hands began smoothing over her back.

"I hope he does. I'm armed, and if that's not enough," she smirked up at him. "You can subdue him with one of your famous nosebleeds." Or rapier wit, she mentally added, knowing he was thinking of the same conversation. "Besides," she jerked her head out the window. "Captain put a patrol car out front."

She felt her torso crunch as he leaned forward, still wrapped around her to look at the imaginary cruiser out the imaginary window.

"Doesn't he know the city's in a budget crisis?" she muttered. Montgomery would have done it even if the city was broke, she thought with a pang. Had done it.

"Small price to protect his star detective." He leaned back, tense.

Here we go. Now we get to fight for the whole world to see. She deliberately unwound herself, turning to face him, trading the reflected light off the blue screen for the light of the cameras themselves. He mimicked her position, squeezing in beside her and the heater with his legs stretched out in front of him.

"What?" he asked. He bumped her shoulder and she felt the warmth of his naked arms through the thin night shirt wardrobe had set her up with. It made the thought of fighting with him easier. "What's got you up at this hour?"

She mentally pictured a wall between them and let her body tense up – like she was uncomfortable sharing with him. "Gossip," she said shortly. "I've been thinking about how ugly gossip is." That was something she could totally agree with. They still had all of that to face when they finally let the cat out of the bag.

His face was serious as he focused on her.

"How it victimizes people, but how as much as we say we hate it, we still feed on it like it was crack," she extrapolated, thankful Nikki's diction wasn't hard for her to remember or find the flow of.

"I hear you," he nodded slowly. "It ate at me every day with Cassidy Towne. They call what she did journalism but, when you get down to it, Cassidy Towne was as much about journalism as the Spanish Inquisition was about justice."

"I'm not talking about Cassidy Towne," she made herself snap. "I'm talking about me. And the rumours and gossip I've had to deal with since you put me on the cover of a national magazine. That's what got me all shitty with you in the car today. Someone made a snide comment insinuating that I slept with you for the publicity." Even the thought of someone saying something like that and reducing her relationship with Castle to money or publicity made her sick.

"It was that lawyer, wasn't it?" He looked angry. Really angry. She was tempted to credit his mother, but he was probably acting from the same place she was right now- the indistinct future looming where they were going to have to face all this crap.

"It doesn't matter who. It's not the first of those I've had to deal with. At least that was an overt remark. Most of what I get are looks or I catch people whispering," she let herself almost spit the words out. Oh yeah, she was so familiar with people talking about her behind her back. "Since your article came out I feel like I'm walking around naked. I've spent years building my rep as a professional. It's never been called into question until now."

"I knew that asshole said something to you," he was getting carried away, too protective and insulted on her behalf.

"Did you even hear what I just said?"

"Yes," he pulled himself back. "And my advice is to consider the source, Nik."

That was just weird – being called Nikki. She had not be careful not to let her nose crinkle in distaste. It let her take a breath though and remember this wasn't real, no one was questioning her relationship with Castle – any more than usual.

"He's just working on your head to get some sort of psychological leverage in the case," Castle continued, going from pissed off to flippant- from the way his eyes were sparking with excitement, he was loving being able to hop around from one mood to another. "His client's going down. Richmond Vergennes will be an Iron Chef, all right. Ironing in the Sing Sing laundry."

And there was the obligatory smart ass comment.

He did the flippant too well, it was actually pissing her off a little. She scooted to face him and placed a hand deliberately on each of his shoulders. His eyes followed her hands but she waited for them to flick back to her face before she continued. "Now I want you to listen, because this is important. You listening?" She tried not to smirk.

He nodded, his skin warm and smooth under her palms.

"Good, because I'm trying to tell you what's going on for me and you're spinning off on a complete tangent. You think you're following me but you're following a whole different road map. Get it?"

Again he nodded and she sighed in apparent frustration. All the trepidation she had about fighting with him on screen was gone. Sure he wrote them so well it was easy to fall into old patterns, but it was so obvious to her now how old the patterns were. Old enough they were internally laughing about it.

"You don't," she argued.

"I do," he stared at her. "You're upset because that lawyer made an unfair crack."

She took her hands off his shoulders and folded them in her lap, lacing her fingers together until they blanched. "You're not hearing me." She went for defeated.

"Hey?" His hand cupped her face and brought their eyes level so she could look at him squarely. "I am hearing you, and here's what you're feeling. You're feeling like your life was rolling along fine until my article came out, right? And what did I do? I put you where you aren't comfortable-thrust into the spotlight with everybody looking at you and gossiping about you, and not always to your face. And you're frustrated because you tried to tell me it wasn't what you wanted but I had it so in my head it was good for you that I did everything but consider your feelings." He paused and took both her hands in his.

He was pretty good at shrinking her head - in real life and now on screen.

He swallowed hard and she squeezed them tightly. He knew how much he meant to her – how he had changed her life for the better. "I'm considering them now, Nik. I'm sorry for how I made you feel," he cleared his throat. "I thought I was doing a good job and apologize that I let it get complicated."

She watched his face, plastering on bewilderment – disbelief that he could possibly have any idea what she was actually feeling. It was absurd, but she couldn't laugh. Was there anyone on the planet that knew her as well as he did? "So," she dragged out the syllable. "I guess you were listening."

"We just had a Dr Phil thing there, didn't we?" He looked impish.

She laughed. "Sorta, yeah."

"Because it felt sort of like one of those Dr Phil things."

Smartass. She didn't give herself time to double think, just caught his chin in her hand and drew him to her so she could kiss that smug smile off his face. He opened for her immediately, teasing her playfully even when she tried to take her frustration out on him. She just couldn't stay mad at him.

While he was playful, he kept it relatively light, ending it with a slightly bossy push so she would remember she was supposed to have a line. She bit his lip for that but he was smiling broadly when she drew back to look at him and damn if she didn't have the same expression on her own face. She couldn't help it. There was just something about kissing Castle.

"I'm sorry, too," she offered finally. "About this afternoon in the car, being so rough on you."

He nodded in acceptance, watching her closely before he smiled archly. "And so you know? I'm good with rough."

"Oh, are you?" She reached down and placed her hand high up on the inside of his thigh. From the angle, it would look the same as if she had put her hand where they both wanted her to. She moved her fingers to the spot on the left she knew was sensitive and caught her bottom lip in her teeth at the shudder he couldn't hold back. "How rough?"

He cupped a palm behind her head, lacing his long fingers through her hair and pulling her face in until the next words were spoken against her lips. "Wanna find out?"

That was just not fair. Kiss or don't. "You're on."

He pressed a furious kiss on her lips. On reflex she pulled him in closer, growling until he released the seal of his mouth and joined her. He only teased her and pulled back to run circuits up her neck to her ear.

"You staking your claim, Katherine?" he whispered into her ear, beyond the reach of the mikes, causing her to moan on the shivers the sensation demanded of her body.

She straddled him swiftly, wrapping her legs around his waist when she couldn't comfortably bridge herself over his Indian style position. "You know you're mine," she spoke the words into his skin, her palms skating under the undershirt.

"Always," he groaned, stealing her lips again and when she was still gasping after air he gathered her up in his arms. She felt the slight tremor in his balance in the transition from sitting to getting his feet under him and she clutched tighter on a startled laugh, probably not helping. She knew he could support her weight – he did quite often, but he was usually already standing, or at least sitting up off the floor on a chair he could push up out of.

She was actually impressed with how quickly he righted himself. As a reward she kissed up the line of his throat until she reached his ear which she knew was sensitive. He knew it was coming because he had written it into the book, but he still moaned when she bit into it, grinding forward unconsciously and paralyzing the words in her throat.

He tucked his nose into the hollow under her clavicle, his breath hot and controlled - the rhythm she knew he favoured when he was struggling for control. She ran her tongue over the flesh in swirls until his grip became painful with the restraint.

Oh crap, they were on camera for the whole friggin' world.

She pulled away and nuzzled the underside of his jaw, hoping he would sense the apology.

"My safe word is 'pineapples'," she breathed, using the gust of fresh air to clear her head and project her last line for the mikes.

Castle kept on moving for the bedroom until they heard it.

"Cut!"

His burst of air was shaky against her and he rested his forehead against hers for a breath. She ran her fingers through his hair, just behind his ears in the pattern she knew he found soothing. Hell, she found the texture against her fingers comforting.

"Hey," she murmured. "You okay? I might have gotten as little carried away."

"Don't go anywhere," he said quietly, a little terse.

She hummed. "As much as I'd like to oblige you, we're about to have company."

"I just need a minute," he breathed. "Can you cover me?"

She worked the word free from her throat, burning again. "Yeah," she started to unlock her legs and slide down. The friction made her freeze and she felt him jolt and hiss in a breath.

"Kate," he gasped.

"Sorry," she made herself disentangle fully. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just don't move."

"How long do you need?" she whispered.

"Forever," he huffed, pulling her back against him. She could feel him behind her, taught and trying to rein himself in. Together they watched the crowd of people flood towards them, but instead of apprehension, she felt proud. Of them. Of what they did and how far they'd come.

Let them all see.

"Castle?"

"Yeah?" he leaned over her shoulder to hear her.

She turned her face and kissed him lightly. "I can do forever."

…

**Thanks for reading. R&R?**


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